


Little Pieces

by Pikamiya



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Feels, I don't know what I'm doing, M/M, Multi, OT5 Is Only OTP, come along for the ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-19 16:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14241582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pikamiya/pseuds/Pikamiya
Summary: OT5, established relationships, co-habitation. Future fic. slice of life. Lot of implied sex. some actual sex. Cooking with Jun. Eating with Nino. and Eating Nino. Ohno is a work of Art. Aiba is very danger and Sho stress cleans. it's basically Arashi Sharehouse with more sex."The quiet of the place seems almost endless; a little house set in the outskirts of Kisarazu; within view of the skyline of Tokyo, but still far enough away, separate enough. The hour drive home, intentionally chosen to keep the sun behind while commuting, is the perfect time to either prepare for or settle down from the day’s work.  Occasionally, it feels like such an inconvenience; they could afford to live in Tokyo, anyway - but on days like today, that hour is the difference between getting through another day and giving it all up. It provides perspective and necessary distance."





	1. Sometimes... Simple.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MagiCraft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagiCraft/gifts).



Sometimes, it starts off really simple.

The quiet of the place seems almost endless; a little house set in the outskirts of Kisarazu; within view of the skyline of Tokyo, but still far enough away, separate enough. The hour drive home, intentionally chosen to keep the sun behind while commuting, is the perfect time to either prepare for or settle down from the day’s work. Occasionally, it feels like such an inconvenience; they could afford to live in Tokyo, anyway - but on days like today, that hour is the difference between getting through another day and giving it all up. It provides perspective and necessary distance. 

In the relative silence of the neighborhood, the crunch of tires pulling into the gravel parking space outside the door is relatively easy to overlook. Even this late in the evening, the waning moon shines down on a sleepy but busy neighborhood. The ramen vendor at the corner still cheerfully talks with salarymen after a quick dinner; their wives and children long in bed while they were putting in that extra time at work. Other cars wander the neighborhood roads, turning in from evenings in Tokyo or long days at the beach. However, the loud slam of the car door has a set of ears perking up. 

In the living room, the sound is immediately followed by the clicking of a controller. The TV flashes a Quick Save screen, then confirmation, and finally powers down with a speed that shows long familiarity. Rustling draws attention to the mound of yellow and orange blankets with arms on the couch. A tousled head pops out of the blanket and thin arms set the controller on the end table, then stands up and stretches while rubbing the small of his back, making a slight grimace and rolling his shoulders. 

“Oi, Ohno, he’s home!” he shouts down the hall, continuing to work on stretching out the pains of spending the entire day on the couch. 

Down the hall, eyes narrowed in concentration snap open. Ohno’s tongue brushes across his lips briefly before retreating into his mouth as he carries the paintbrush and palette into the room’s attached bathroom for a brief rinse in the sink. He glances down at his apron, splattered in paint, before he removes it and hangs it on the back of the door. He runs his hand through his hair, unerringly adding a few red streaks as he leaves the bathroom. 

He pops his head into the next room down the hall. 

“Sho-chan?” his call is met with silence, but as he moves fully into the room he sees Sho, head thrown back against the armchair, eyes closed, large headphones fully covering his ears and blocking out all sound. Little snores escape Sho’s open mouth as he continues sleeping. Ohno gracefully and silently moves across the room, leaning down to give Sho’s sleeping face a kiss. 

“Mrrprph?” Sho pops up, immediately fully awake; only Ohno’s preternatural agility keeps him from being slammed into full force. Sho’s sudden movement causes his headphones to go askew, and Ohno can hear the background music of Sho’s next solo escaping from the earpieces. 

“What… time is it?” Sho asks, as he wakes up enough to realize that the room has faded to dark around him and is only lit by the small lamp on his desk. 

“I don’t know, but Jun’s home, and it seems like it might be really late. I almost finished the painting,” Ohno states casually. “I didn’t think you’d want to sleep through that.” 

“Thanks,” Sho climbs out of the recliner, glancing across his desk where rap lyrics are strewn from one side to the other. They both look towards the door as the front door slams and loud steps make their way towards the kitchen. “I guess it didn’t go so well, huh?” 

Meanwhile, Nino had abandoned the couch and living room in pursuit of Aiba. When last seen, said person had stated that he was going to try to observe the little egret nest that had appeared in the backyard last week, to see if there were eggs. However, that was when the sun was still up, and that must’ve been hours ago. 

The backyard is empty. Well, empty of Aiba at least; the crickets and frogs start their drone as soon as Nino pulls the back door open. He thinks for a second, and then starts walking down the path towards the bay; Aiba is rarely found indoors if the weather is as nice as it is right now. About 100 feet down, Nino finds him, sitting on the ledge and watching the waves crash into the barrier. 

“Yo,” he starts, but Aiba cuts him off. 

“He’s home? It’s not good?” Aiba’s member-sense kicks in, and he swings his long legs back over the ledge before Nino even reaches him. Nino nods affirmation, and without words they link arms and start heading back up towards the house. The blinking green light on the top (“in case of low-flying planes,” Aiba explained as he installed it) beckons them home. 

As they quietly open the back door, they hear the banging of pots and pans in the kitchen. The men exchange quick glances, knowing that while Jun cooking is not abnormal, Jun angrily cooking is another story altogether. 

The four meet up in the living room, pushing aside Nino’s blankies to sit and stare forlornly into the open kitchen. Jun’s shirtsleeves are rolled up past his elbows, and although it’s only been maybe ten minutes since he walked in the door, he already has flour splattered all over the front of his royal blue shirt. His eyebrows are tight in concentration, and even from across the room they can see the tense way he’s holding his shoulders as he mixes the flour and eggs together to make pasta dough. 

Ohno is the first to move. Pulling himself up from between Nino and Sho on the couch, he goes around the kitchen island and sidles up behind Jun, being careful to avoid getting in the way as Jun shifts from the mixing bowl to the pasta machine on the opposite counter. He reaches his arms around Jun’s torso in a hug and the taller man visibly relaxes into the touch. 

Sho, Aiba, and Nino watch together as Ohno leans up and whispers something in Jun’s ear that makes just the start of a smile begin at one side of Jun’s mouth. He uses that mouth to give Ohno a quick peck on the temple, and Ohno detaches and returns to the couch. 

“Yamada really messed up today,” he says simply, without any explanation on how he knows who caused Jun’s bad mood. However, nobody questions it - Ohno always knows, and it’s always completely accurate. Nino stands up and pulls Ohno back down onto the couch and settles himself down on his lap before he reaches over and picks up the game controller again. If it was Yamada, silence will only add to Jun’s poor mood. With a few flicks of the buttons, he’s pulling up Mario Kart 8 Deluxe; Aiba reaches over and grabs another controller as Sho heads towards the kitchen; it’s his turn now. 

With the sound of Rainbow Road in the background, Sho settles into the stool across the counter from Jun and the pasta. The smile is still playing around Jun’s lips, so Sho knows that Jun is almost ready to talk about what happened today. He hops back up and grabs the lettuce, cheese, and other salad fixings out of the fridge and cabinets, along with the large salad bowl, and reclaims his chair. It’s a waiting game, and Sho is good at those. 

Jun’s eyes eventually leave the pasta machine, having successfully cut off several long sets of linguine. He sees Sho concentrating hard, pulling lettuce apart into more manageable chunks and placing them in the bowl before pulling over the cutting board, knife, and tomato. He smiles fondly, remembering when he had held that hand and guided it through the motions of slicing after one too many cuts. As he turns to the fridge to pull out what he needs to make alfredo [cream, check, butter, check, … cheese with a small nibble taken out of the corner, probably for Kazu’s lunch, check], he starts running the events of the day through his mind. He needs to talk this over with Sho, to see where to go from here. 

Walking over to the stove, he flips the switch and adjusts the flame from the gas stove for the two burners. He reaches for a pot, fills it with water, and adds salt and olive oil liberally before placing it on the flames. Making eye contact with Sho for the first time that evening, he hands him the cheese and the grater before returning to add the linguine to the now boiling water. He puts the butter in the saucepan to start melting and turns toward Sho.

“It’s completely fucked,” he says, growling his words out. “Six goddamn months of work!” He forcefully throws the linguine into the boiling water and re-adjusts the pot after the force of his throw knocks it off the flames. “Yamada-kun won’t even admit his fault in the whole thing! He told us, three months ago, that Higashiyama had the space in his schedule, but now he’s going to be overseas. Yamada keeps pushing blame onto someone else! And I know that he is at fault here, because I called Shimura and their records don’t even show contact from Yamada!” Jun grabs a ladle and takes a sip of the pasta water and adds a dash more salt. 

Sho grunts in acknowledgement of Jun’s frustrations, but knows now is not the time. He continues to rhythmically grate the cheese into fine shreds. 

“I mean, he’s worked with us for five years. He should know that if he is having trouble, with anything, that he can come to us and we can help figure it out. But he’s so fucking independent that he’s turning tiny molehills into huge mountains. We only have two weeks before we have to start filming, and we don’t have any additional talent. Who can we scrounge up in two weeks that won’t feel like we are scrounging for talent? How desperate can Arashi get? This is supposed to be a celebration, not a way to promote kouhai. Johnny’s is going to be ridiculed and shunned, it’s going to be the worst 25th anniversary ever.” 

Sho perks up. Once Jun devolves into that particular petulant tone, he knows that the time is right for him to interject. 

“What about Nagase?” Sho pulls out his phone, typing a quick inquiry to their senpai and then switching cheeses. 

Suddenly, Nino’s phone starts ringing from the coffee table. Ohno leans over to answer it, lounging like a cat across Nino and moving his legs to Aiba. Nino adjusts nimbly; it is obviously a coordinated move they perfected a long time ago, and they end up with Ohno in Nino’s lap while the Shyguy on the screen starts Lap 3, still in first place. Ohno picks the phone up and answers it quietly, keeping the conversation to a low rumble on the other side of the room. 

Meanwhile, Jun ponders; Nagase, while not Higashiyama, is not nobody. It has been a while since they’ve done something together, and TOKIO has always supported them enthusiastically. It’s a possibility, but… 

“That still doesn’t fix the issue with Yamada though.” Jun pours the cream in to the melted butter, and then takes the first bowl of cheese from Sho and slowly mixes it in with a whisk. 

“It doesn’t, that’s true, but it does address the immediate problem. Did Johnny-san have anything to say regarding Yamada? Have you talked to him yet?” in Sho’s efficient way, he is laying out the plan to channel Jun’s anger into productivity, and Jun can’t help but appreciate it. 

“Not yet, but we have a meeting at 9 tomorrow morning.” 

As he responds, he hears Nino’s victory yell from the couch; he and Aiba have completed the Special Cup and, as expected, Nino has come in first with Aiba a far, far, tenth. Ohno reaches up and ruffles Nino’s hair and pulls him down for a victory kiss, as Aiba, with his long torso, stretches and comes to the kitchen. He stops next to Sho and rests his fluffy head on Sho’s shoulder for a moment, seeking consolation for his video game loss. Sho briefly rubs his back and kisses his temple before returning to grating the cheese. Aiba continues around to the cabinets, pulling out the dishes necessary to start setting the table. 

“Well, when you go in to see Johnny-san, let him know Nagase and Taichi-kun are going to take Higashiyama’s place,” Aiba says a few minutes later. He sets the final fork down and grabs a loaf of french bread from the breadbox. With hands used to kitchen work, he slices down the middle of the loaf and heads to the fridge to grab butter and minced garlic, mixing the two together before slathering it down the bread halves. He then pops it in the oven before heading to the selection of wines. “Which one?”

“2000 Massolino Barolo,” Jun replies, adding the last cheese to the saucepan and whisking while Aiba walks past him, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a one-armed hug as he passes. Aiba pours wine into each glass before replacing the cork and returning the wine to the rack. Nino pours Ohno off of his lap, his hair extra tossed after his victory make-out session, clothes a little rumpled, satisfied smile on his face. He goes to the drawers in the kitchen, rummaging through until he finds some candlesticks and a lighter. He heads to the table to do his part, lighting each candle carefully and dribbling some wax in to keep them upright in the candlestick holder. He makes sure to detour through the kitchen, pulling out the perfectly browned garlic bread and slicing it before putting it into a basket that he then places in the middle of the table. 

Sho, finished with the cheeses, rinses the grater from the opposite side of the sink and leaves it to soak in the warm soapy water he has created. He then reclaims the salad and brings it to the table, setting it next to where Ohno has claimed the head of the table. He settles in on Ohno’s right, tucking his napkin into his lap. 

Aiba hands Jun his glass of wine and shoos him out of the kitchen towards the table. Nino holds the strainer while he pours in the finished noodles, and then Aiba expertly adds and tosses the alfredo sauce before placing it all into a serving dish. 

Jun barely beats Nino to the table, where he claims the spot on Ohno’s left and Nino makes a big production out of having to sit so far away from “his Oh-chan, and after a victory, too!” Jun is smiling, reaching out to grab Nino’s hand as he sits. Nino gives his hand a strong squeeze, running his thumbs across Jun’s knuckles as Aiba brings the serving dish and joins them at the table. 

“Okay, Google, dim dining room lights to 15%,” Nino says, smirking as he didn’t have to release Jun’s hand for something as silly as turning down the lights. There is silence except for the clink of serving dishes and silverware, quickly replaced by Ohno and Sho’s emphatic utterings in appreciation of the food. 

After they get the first few bites in, conversation starts picking up; everyone but Sho is clearly avoiding what happened at work today. They all overheard, of course, but their assignment is to make Jun feel better and to solve the problem, not rub it in that the day was difficult. Aiba starts talking about the new development being built across the river and wondering how it is going to affect the neighborhood; Ohno is planning a fishing trip for the weekend that Nino emphatically declines an invitation to join - “weekends are for video games, Oh-chan,” and Jun pipes in that every day is for video games, if your name is Nino, and Nino cannot disagree. 

Eventually dinner winds down and they move back to the couch. Without needing words, it is understood that they are going to watch whatever foreign film Jun has chosen from the media case next to the television. He selects Donnie Darko and Sho is the only one with the temerity to groan; of course Jun would pick one with the creepiest of mascot costumes. This is also indicative that, although he is no longer angry, he still hasn’t broken free from the work-related funk. 

As Jun is the last to arrive at the couch, the other members of Arashi have arranged it so that there is nowhere for him to sit except across the four of them. He fakes a groan but throws the bulk of his body into Aiba’s lap, resting his head against Sho’s chest and arm as a pillow and providing his feet to Ohno. That leaves Nino stuck with his knees, at which point Nino decides this is for the best because it is the least heavy part. They settle in and watch the movie, with Sho’s fingers caressing Jun’s scalp in a gentle massage that works wonders on his mood. 

By the time the bunny appears, the only ones still awake are Sho and Jun; Nino, Ohno, and Aiba have turned into a puppy pile at one end of the couch, providing enough room for Jun to actually sink down to their actual couch. His torso is now twisted around, and he leans up and captures Sho’s lips for a moment before sitting up and stretching out his shoulders, reaching behind him as far as he can. He moves to get up when Sho pulls him close again, pulling him into a deeper kiss before letting him go and stretching himself. 

“Do you feel better?” Sho asks, and Jun can’t help but nod. Even though he will still talk with Johnny-san in the morning in regards to Yamada-kun’s irresponsibility, knowing that Arashi was as always by his side and supporting him, providing the foundation for his ideas and helping him achieve his dreams, made every single frustration of the past 25 years worth it. He smiled as Sho tucked one of Nino’s blankets around the men remaining on the couch.

“Sometimes, doesn’t it feel like it was just yesterday?” Sho’s whisper was loud in the quiet. “When we first got on that boat, did you ever imagine?” 

In answer, Jun took his hand and tugged him; past Leader’s art studio, past “Sho’s Serious Study” (painted on the door, the actual door, in Ohno’s red spray paint), past Nino’s music room, up the stairs into the bedroom. 

Sometimes, simple is all you need.


	2. Regrets

Sometimes, it gets complicated… 

Nino wakes up the next morning a little before 4 a.m. The American high school students generally populate Halo around this time, and they are definitely easier to wipe out than the folks in his own time zone from South Korea. Sure, he had to scour some forums to make sure that his system was set up correctly, but he loved running around and taking out entire parties with a couple of quick moves. He grabbed the XBox controller and threw himself into the game. 

A few rounds later, Aiba starts shifting around and ends up lounging in Nino’s lap. He blearily blinks his eyes open and groans. “Not this again, Nino! It’s too early for bam bam bam DEATH.”

Nino sighs; he really loves Halo, but he loves Aiba more. He turns off the game with a couple practiced movements and leans back on the couch, pulling Aiba up in to his arms. In the darkness their lips find each other; Nino deepens the kiss, running his tongue into Aiba’s oh-so-generous mouth, and Aiba returns the favor. They’re just getting into it, with Aiba’s arms wrapped around Nino’s neck, Nino’s hands with fistfuls of Aiba’s hair, when they hear it. 

Sho’s footsteps, light, bouncy. 

It is too early for this. 

Sho, with a smile brighter than the as-yet-non-existent sun, basically trips into the room. 

“Good MORNING!” he sings, with a little bounce in his step that just underlies the fact that he did not fall asleep on the couch. “What is YOUR happiness?”

“Oh god,” Nino groans, falling back against the couch cushions, dropping Aiba to the floor. “The sun isn’t even up, Sho. Why. Why am I hearing your chirpy chipmunk voice?” 

Sho is used to morning Nino, and especially the reaction he gets when he interrupts “face time” with Aiba - or anyone else for that matter. He bustles into the kitchen and starts setting up the coffee maker; he won’t get anything cheerful out of Nino until he’s at least a cup or two in. 

Aiba, invigorated by his morning greeting from Nino, skips out the back door. “I’ll be back for breakfast!” he calls back, “but first I have to check on the regrets!”

“YOU MEAN EGRETS, IDIOT,” cranky Nino calls from the couch. 

Ohno stirs from his position on the couch and stumbles up the stairs. Shortly thereafter, Nino hears the shower running and bounces off the couch and up the stairs, ready to make good use of all that hot, steamy water. 

Sho, now the only one downstairs, begins cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking them together along with a little cream, cinnamon, and vanilla. He pulls out a griddle and turns it on to mid-heat, spraying it briefly with some non-stick spray he grabs out of the cabinet. He digs around in the breadbox and pulls out half a loaf of bread, dipping each piece in the egg mixture before placing them on the griddle, listening to the sizzle and smiling at the delicious smell. 

The scent seems to be what pulls the practically-comatose Jun downstairs, running into each side of the staircase on his descent. He flops into a chair at the table and puts his head down. Aiba, fresh from his run outside, whips back in and, after a stop at the coffee pot, places a mug down next to Jun’s head and pets him. Jun blearily wakes up and attaches the mug of coffee to his face, even though it is way too hot to be drinking as fast as he is. 

Nino and Ohno show back up just as Sho finishes sprinkling powdered sugar over the french toast, and Aiba’s eyes track their forms as they finish descending the stairs. Ohno’s white t-shirt and track pants speak of a casual demeanor that is not actually reflected in his movements. He seems relaxed, yes, but rather like a coiled panther on a tree branch that just finished a satisfying meal. His wet hair lays flush against his collar, the moisture making the collar of his shirt transparent and drawing attention to the lines of his neck. 

Nino doesn’t even bother with putting on anything comfortable, as he knows he needs to get out of the house shortly and, due to his shared shower with Ohno, he is a little later than usual getting the caffeine into his system. He has a red towel wrapped around his hips, and although he is nowhere near as broad as Jun, it’s obvious that he works to keep himself in some semblance of health. His chest is shapely, and Aiba’s gaze lingers a bit too long on the ring of teeth marks along his collarbone, taking a little mental vacation, only stopping when he feels the drool about to puddle out of his mouth. 

Nino and Ohno grab their plates and head to the table, movements in sync as they seat themselves opposite Aiba and Jun. They continue leaning towards each other as they eat, shoulders touching, as Sho finally rounds his way back over towards the table, dropping off a plate for Aiba (and a kiss on the top of his head) and taking his own plate to the head seat. 

As Nino ingests his coffee, he starts initiating conversation - starting with the players he destroyed on Halo, but eventually circling around to his plans for the day. His newest drama is going to be announced in a week, and he’s busy on the pre-announcement interview circuit. Today is a magazine shoot, followed by meeting with the cast in preparation of the start of filming. 

Sho nods, but the rest of them feel some tension gathering. In this summer before their 25th anniversary in September, they can feel the weight of the occasion. It seems like everyone wants a piece of them; the end of this year’s summer is in Shin Kokuritsu, and Jun is already tracking the more-active-than-usual typhoon forecasts, in addition to regular concert prep. It’s only late May, but the interview and guest appearance requests are flooding in. Sho just finished filming for his drama last week, and the last episode airs soon. Aiba’s flying out in two days for a location filming in Thailand, recreating one of his first appearances on Shimura Dobutsuen, and Ohno is working on pieces for an art show coming up in the fall. 

Jun raises his head and glances around the table; it all matters, each little piece, and each little peace. He makes an effort to get his coffee and actually gets up from the table and helps himself to a piece of French toast from the stack and covers it with maple syrup. He comes back to the table and uses his fork to cut into the piece. 

Ohno’s eyes are clearly following his every move. Although there is a lot to do, Ohno keeps watching that fork approach Jun’s mouth, and curses under his breath when a drop of syrup falls just as it reaches, and slides down the corner of Jun’s mouth. Nino punches Ohno in the shoulder, but Ohno continues to stare, whining a little bit as Jun’s napkin brushes the syrup away. Jun watches as Nino leans over and whispers into Ohno’s ear, who then smiles like the cat who got the cream and slowly, emphatically, and deliberately eats a piece of french toast, his fork laying uselessly by the side of his plate, and licks the syrup off his own fingers.

Jun, who has a meeting with Johnny-san in just under an hour and a half, is still sitting at the table in his jimjams with sleep in the corner of his eyes. He has no idea what he is going to wear to the meeting this morning, and this is what Ohno decides to do. He groans deep in his throat, feeling it to his soul, unable to stifle a lecherous grin as he heaves himself to his feet and heads back upstairs to his closet which is located in the back of Nino’s music room. He does not have time to indulge, but he’s happy to let his fantasies play out in his head as he feels ready to take on his day. 

Back at the table, Jun’s departure is the sign everyone needs to get a move on. Ohno, calm like a rock in the middle of a swift stream, continues to enjoy his breakfast, smacking his lips and making appreciative noises, using the fork now that his fun is over. Nino, now fully clothed in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt that actually belongs to Jun, with one sock on and the other one (and his shoes) tucked in one hand, stops before he heads out the door. 

“I told you he would smile,” he leans down to say, then licks the syrup off the side of Ohno’s own mouth before walking out the door. 

Ohno, now alone in the house, breathes in deeply when the last car engine fades into the distance and hoists himself up from the table. The lazy, early morning eyes are gone, and steely determination has seeped into his entire body. He heads towards his art room, opening the closet and pulling out five canvases of varying dimensions. Tucking his tongue into the corner of his mouth, he grabs the cans of spray paint out from under the sink in the bathroom and gets to work, pulling the canvases into the garden out back and doing his thing. Occasionally, he stops to change mediums, pulling out oil paints and clay, sequins and feathers. Eventually, the morning sunlight disappears and the house’s shadow begins falling onto the canvas; he undoes all that he did previously. He puts away the sequins, the feathers. The paints stay out - he has other work to do, after all - but the spray paint gets stuck in the back of the sink cabinet. He goes ahead and starts cleaning the spray paint off the bottom of his shoes and makes sure the garden is clear of any evidence, finally taking the canvases and paint back into the room. He walked to the large boombox in the corner, humming as he selected a playlist on his phone and set it to play loud enough to feel it in his bones. Storing the canvases back into the closet, he turns around to his easel and pulls off the cover. 

Here is his most precious memory. You would think, being that they are five grown men that share everything from breakfast, to a bedroom, to the two bathrooms that aren’t attached to his studio, that the figures in the painting might be less suitable for public view; less clothes, less walls, less assumed poses and more shield. But, it’s actually something everyone has probably seen before, or is available. The image has their kitchen table, indistinguishable from any other table other than it’s Sho’s mother’s vase in the center; Nino’s grandma’s tablecloth; Jun’s sister’s placemats; leftover silverware from Aiba’s family’s restaurant. And the faces… the faces are the first faces he remembers - Sho, round cheeks, small bones; Jun, huge eyes, long fingers; Nino, no hair, still that smirk; and Aiba, hair wild, ears pierced. 

He’s almost done, like he mentioned to Sho yesterday. It just needs a few more details; more wind in Aiba’s hair, more mirth in Nino’s eyes, more ferocity in Jun’s fingers. The next thing he knew, he could no longer see the colors of the pigments he reached for. Smiling, he covered the painting again and cleaned up his paints and palette, scrubbing under his fingers. He switched off the boombox and headed into the living room, up the stairs, and into Nino’s music room. 

Nino’s music room is a misnomer; it’s called “Nino’s music room” because he claimed it by writing a giant “4” in the middle of the house plans when they were moving in. It is the largest room in the house, bigger than any of the other bedrooms, and as soon as Sho had the deed in hand Nino was ordering workers in to soundproof the walls and install flooring and a full-length mirror along one entire wall. Part dance studio, part music station, and part Twitch livestream location, the space was dominated by Nino’s equipment. However, there was still plenty of room for the five of them to practice choreography, alone or together, dancing or “dancing.” 

Ohno stopped briefly at the stereo equipment, queuing up the next few songs. He was in the middle of planning the dance break for the first half of the anniversary concert, and he felt like he was on the edge of a major break through. As always, the first song he listened to was “Believe.” It got his head into the right place and reminded him of who he did all of this for. As he breathed out, he counted down the end of the song, and as the stereo switched to the new one, his body sprang into action. This first song was his solo, and he had it down near perfect. He lost track of time as he corrected a step, staring almost feverishly at his own reflection as with force of will, he merged hand motions into a seemingly effortless fluid motion. Spinning on one foot, his eyes caught Nino’s as he lounged in the frame of the doorway, eyes on fire from watching Ohno. Wordlessly, Nino crossed to the stereo and hit next, never losing eye contact the entire way. 

Of course, with Nino there, inspiration came easily to Ohno. He hadn’t even begun thinking about the choreography for the song Nino put on; a simple B-side with a high energy beat and a billion references to outer space; constellation this, rocketship that; supernovas not quite next to a door. The first time through, Ohno danced with his heart as Nino’s eyes burned across his skin. The second time, Nino joined in; adjusting the dance moves to his own abilities. Areas that Ohno had left empty, Nino filled. This part was always the easiest. Although Nino did not have the absolutely fluid grace that Ohno took pride in, he felt the rhythm in ways that sometimes Ohno didn’t. He mouthed the words the entire time, emoting the lines. 

Eventually, their bodies began to wear down. Ohno had been dancing for upwards of five hours, and Nino’s over-enthusiastic flails were not as energy efficient. Grabbing a towel, Ohno grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it to Nino. Surprised, Ohno felt a different towel start rubbing vigorously at his arms, and he looked at the mirror to see Sho standing behind him.

“You’ve worked hard, let me help,” Sho said huskily, eyes locked to the hollow of Ohno’s collarbone and the sweat gathered there as he worked the towel under Ohno’s t-shirt and started lifting said shirt off over his head. Ohno could still feel Nino’s eyes burning into him in the mirror, and as he raised his eyes to meet them, Nino began walking purposefully across the studio. It was time, finally, for a different dance. 

****

In Tokyo, however, time was not passing nearly as pleasantly. Jun had met with Johnny-san, and he felt all the tension he had released at home creeping back into his spine. Johnny-san had pushed up the release date of their album, and that meant they were going to have to somehow squeeze in vocal recordings in the upcoming months. Luckily, with Nino’s equipment they could do a lot of the recording at home, but Jun still felt the pressure behind his eyes, the onset of a stress-headache about to happen. Even more so, Johnny-san reminded Jun that it was 2024... After the Tokyo Olympics, although Sho had continued to participate in News Zero, it felt like all of the Olympic fever of the past twenty years of Arashi’s lives had finally calmed down. Johnny-san’s words brought to mind the fact that Sho was probably going to be called upon to cover Paris in July, at least for some of the time. And this time, it wasn’t a flight to Beijing, or Pyongyeong, or just across the bridge in Tokyo. Paris was a commitment, and Sho’s work ethic meant he would not turn it down. 

After sending some emails and knocking out some work that he had to do while in town (making telephone calls, meeting with Mount Blast, etc.), it was finally time to head out. Walking down the stairs at JE headquarters, Jun pondered what to do. He would love to go with Sho to Paris, ignoring the Olympics (but of course cheering for the Japanese national teams) but instead prowling through the fashion shops and wineries. However, with the Shin Kokuritsu concert in the beginning of September and a new album to record for, as well as preparing to tour for the album, he knew it would be impossible to leave Tokyo, but what he would give…

After leaving JE, Jun swung by the NTV studios and parked in the garage. He and Aiba had made plans the day before yesterday to go shopping and pick up the things Aiba would need to take with him on his trip; Jun fully enjoyed spending time with Aiba, and when combined with shopping it was usually the makings of a good day. As he waited in the car, he played with his phone, checking the news and sales stats of their latest single. His phone dinged and he was treated to the sight of Sho’s new multi-colored belly-button piercing, recently redone to the secret delight of Arashi and Arashi alone, courtesy of one Kazu. Then the Snapchat icon popped up, and Jun pressed the button; Ohno’s icon indicated that there was a new video. Jun waited a moment, allowing the thrill of anticipation to build in him, and then clicked Oh-chan’s name. Immediately he was rewarded with the piercing again, starting from an angle slightly to the right of the previous still image and then travelling in a southward direction to a place that made a grin appear on Jun’s face and his eyebrows to almost reach his hairline. He snapped his face back to Leader, knowing that it would be appreciated later, and wished he was at home. 

A quiet tapping on the passenger door startled the grin right off of his face, and he hurriedly looked over to see Aiba’s cheerful face pressed against the window, making marks on the glass. He chuckled and unlocked the door, and Aiba climbed into the passenger seat with a smirk on his face. 

 

“Did you get Leader’s Snap?” he immediately asked as he shut the door, raising his eyebrows suggestively and gesturing toward the phone still in his hand. In answer, Jun grabbed him by his collar and pulled him in for a more-aggressive-than-usual kiss. Aiba used his free hand to snap a picture and, once Jun broke the kiss, he immediately sent the snap to Nino. 

“There, that’s what they get for having fun without us,” he said, clearly pleased with himself, before turning to look at Jun. “Where to? Can we get some coffee first? I know it’s kind of late, but I actually didn’t get as much sleep as I would’ve liked on the couch, and I could really use the caffeine. You should’ve seen the puppies on the show today…” 

Jun let the soothing, deep tone of Aiba’s voice wash over him like a comfortable wave as he maneuvered the car back out of the garage and out the exit. He knew exactly where to take Aiba on their impromptu coffee date; he had just read the other day about a special cafe that seemed right up Aiba’s alley. 

Although usually he wouldn’t risk it, heading to the “Birds are Here” Cafe in Asakusa was probably safe since it was late-afternoon on a Tuesday in May. They might get recognized, but as it was mostly foreigners and tourists visiting Asakusa, the chances that they would actually be approached would be slim. Jun found parking a little way down the street, and looked around carefully for paparazzi before opening Aiba’s door and ushering him down the street, resting his hand on the small of his back until they reached the establishment. 

Aiba, as soon as he read the sign, audibly squawked in excitement and burst through the door. Apologizing to the shop owner, he got stuck in the motion of flapping his arms and looked to Jun for clarification. Laughing, Jun passed over money for his bird-brained friend to go play with the parrots in the other room while he ordered their coffees. 

Fifteen minutes later, Aiba returned, tiny blue, gold, green, and red feathers speckling his entire upper half. Jun’s phone dinged and he reached in his pocket to reveal a MMS message showing Aiba’s top half covered with parrots of all shapes and sizes, with his grinning cherubic face beaming out from them. Jun, delighted, chuckled and immediately set it as his wallpaper on his phone. 

“Hey, what do you want from Thailand,” Aiba asks casually - thus bringing home the fact that he will be leaving soon. 

Jun disregards the question; he knows Aiba will get him something, and he knows it will be sweet, but also knows that it will probably be a cricket on a stick encased in hard candy; that is life as one of Aiba’s partners, and Jun came to terms with it decades ago. 

“Rather, actually, have you ever thought about going to Paris?”


	3. Pineapple, Part 1

Nino lopes down the stairs, taking them two at a time, ignoring Sho’s panicked “oh my god please Nino” that chases him down. He is satisfied, he is happy, and Aiba is home. 

The door is barely open before Nino throws himself onto the first body that enters it. “AIBA!” he exclaims, throwing his arms around the broad chest and enjoying the fact that his head fits right under the chin. Wait, what? 

Nino sniffs, then squeezes harder followed by shoving the body backwards. “J, get out of the way, Aiba is home!” 

Jun sighs, muttering an “at least let him get all the way in the door” before turning and continuing into the genkan, kicking off his shoes and sliding on his slippers. 

At the door, Nino and Aiba cling together, each squeezing the other tightly like they had been away from each other for years, not merely the six hours Aiba was gone today after Nino returned to the house. Nino breathes in deep and gets a feather up his nose for the trouble, but also enjoys the mint and candy smell that is uniquely Aiba. 

Nino pulls Aiba into Sho’s study and softly clicks the door shut behind them. Nino knows that Aiba is heading out of country the next day, and there are some things that need to be accomplished before that happens. Nino needs to get the imprint of Aiba on his skin, from the slight facial hair that skims along his jawline to marks of his teeth in delicate parts of his skin. Aiba knows what that Snap did to Nino earlier, and now Nino will extract revenge, notably making some marks of his own. This becomes even more evident by the rope he pulls out of the bottom drawer of Sho’s desk. Aiba’s breath hitches as he waits for Nino to get back to his side of the room. 

“Turn around,” Nino growls into his ears, and Aiba works hard not to respond too eagerly; if he does, the game will be over before it begins.

MEANWHILE, Jun deposits his keys and phone into the purple basket on the table by the door and heads to the bookshelf to pick something to read. Ohno meanders down the stairs, silent on stocking feet, and pulls out a sketchbook. 

“Pizza?” Ohno asks a few minutes later. “Kazu isn’t going to let Masaki go anytime soon, but they’ll be hungry when they let up.” 

“Yeah, that’s fine, pineapple?” Jun responds, turning a page with his long fingers. Ohno, as usual, takes a second to respond; as long as it takes for that hand to return to under Jun’s chin as he reads. Noticing something missing, Ohno walks upstairs and comes back down a few short minutes later, handing Jun his readers and rubbing his hand across the back of Jun’s neck as he rests the glasses across the bridge of his nose. 

Ohno sat on the arm of the chair, enjoying Jun’s lamplight as he used his phone to order the pizza; two large, one with pineapples and pepperoni, half and half; the other veggie supreme on one half and meatlovers on the other. He made sure to use the pizza place right around the corner that knows he tips well, just to make sure (he didn’t want to deal with any “pizza me!” uchiwas at the upcoming concert; way too much trouble). Clicking “order,” he flops his body across Jun’s. Jun, used to this behavior, adjusts his arms to snuggle Ohno in but still be able to reach his pages, and carries on. 

They lounge that way for several moments, with Ohno’s head tucked close to Jun’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and sometimes singing along. He uses the fingers of his right hand to snake up the side of Jun’s neck to his oh-so-sensitive ears, massaging the earlobe gently while mapping the moles on the underside of Jun’s neck with his eyes. 

Eventually, there is a knock at the door and Ohno effortlessly pulls himself out of Jun’s lap, leaving a whimper behind him as his hand “accidentally” brushes Jun in a rather sensitive area on his way up. Ohno digs through his blue bucket, finding his wallet, and then opens the door and steps outside; a bit of quiet conversation and then Ohno is back with the pizza, which gets tossed on the table. 

Jun sits up and looks around his end table to find his bookmark, tucking it in-between the pages. He heads to the kitchen to find paper plates and napkins while Ohno heads upstairs. He heads back towards Nino’s room, peeping his head in to see Sho standing by the computer, headphones on, and drumming his fingers against the surface of the desk. As Ohno moves in next to him, Sho takes the headphones off of his own head and places them, gently, over Ohno’s ears. He fiddles with the phone in his other hand before restarting the track. 

Ohno listens to the same B-side that he and Nino had worked out the choreography for earlier that day. As the song hits the end of the second chorus, Sho pulls the headphone off of one of his ears and whispers into the other, his voice low and oh, so husky. Ohno’s eyes glaze over as he listens, and he turns his head to nibble at Sho’s mouth just a bit. But, more than anything else, Ohno understands that food is often Sho’s first love. 

“Pizza,” is all he says, and Sho takes off towards the door. Ohno hears his journey down the stairs and smirks. He removes the headphones and leaves the room, but turns away from the stairs. He leans his body against the door and cups his hand around his ear, listening in. Hearing Aiba’s deep laugh, he goes ahead and opens the door. Nino is pulling his sweatshirt back over his head, but not quick enough that Ohno misses the scratches across his ribs; Aiba is rubbing the red marks around his wrists. 

“Oi, pizza,” he says, and closes the door to let them finish up. He gets back down the stairs and snags slices out of all the pizza boxes and ends up perched on a barstool watching Jun and Sho eat. Sho is three pieces deep into the meatlovers already, his chipmunk cheeks full as he happily chews. Jun, forever the more mannerly member, is using a napkin to blot the excess grease off the top of his piece of pineapple pizza. 

Ohno takes his first bite as Nino and Aiba finish coming down the stairs. Aiba grabs several slices of veggie pizza, getting half of the slice into his mouth before he even sits down. Nino starts complaining immediately, grabbing a slice of pineapple and standing next to the table as he slowly peels the pineapple pieces off, tossing them one by one on to Jun’s plate. 

“Gross, pizza. Gross, pineapple. J, who eats pineapple on pizza? It’s barely a fruit. Fruit doesn’t belong on pizza! Look at Masaki’s! There’s vegetables. Sho-chan’s is meat! There’s no such thing as a ‘fruit-lovers’ pizza, J,” at this point, there’s nothing left on Nino’s slice but tomato sauce. He picks up the slice, making eye contact with Jun, and slowly begins licking off the sauce. He’s not very careful as he eats, and everyone’s eyes start watching. Soon, all four men have stopped eating, and Nino has cleared the sauce off his slice and puts the remaining crust onto Jun’s plate. 

“I’m going to bed,” he says and heads towards the stairs. Three chairs scrape on the kitchen’s linoleum, and Ohno’s stool crashes to the ground as the other four follow.


	4. Cameras

The next morning, Aiba is already awake, sipping a cup of coffee on the back stoop, when Nino quietly slides the door open and settles in next to him. Aiba takes note of the red lounge-wear, the steaming mug, the tight knuckles around holding it tight. Nino’s hair is messy, squished flat in front and sticking up like peacock feathers in the back. Aiba leaned over and pressed his body against Nino’s, not letting up until Nino started tilting to the right and that stupid infectious laugh that Aiba loves so much burst out of him. 

“It’s only four days, it’s not even a week, Kazukun,” Aiba says as Nino’s laughter fades away and the tight look returns to his eyes. The lines around Nino’s mouth tighten as he nods.

“It’s not only the time,” Nino says brusquely. “I know that you’re competent and a good traveler, but there are just so many possibilities that are entirely out of your control. Thailand, Aiba? You know it’s so much more restless and violent than it was.”

Aiba nods. “I know, but it’s Shimura-san’s idea to recreate the ‘very danger’ python, and it’s for our anniversary special.” He’s said the conciliatory words an untold number of times since it was determined he would make the trip, but the words never really seemed to sink in. He puts his arms around Kazu’s shoulders, keeping him tight against his side as they watch the sun rise above the horizon. 

As the sun finally breaks free, Aiba takes Nino’s empty coffee cup out of his hand and heads back into the house. He rinses the mugs and places them in the top rack of the dishwasher. He goes ahead and takes the pizza boxes out to the garbage, forgetting to put on his outside shoes before padding across the front yard. Luckily, he will not be there to hear Jun’s rant about the track of mud he leaves across the living room when he returns.

Nino’s already on the couch, feet up on the coffee table and game controller in his hand. He’s just hovering at the menu, looking like he’s having difficulty choosing which game, but Aiba knows better. He pretends not to notice the wetness on Nino’s face as he passes, heading back up the stairs to grab his bag and get changed. 

When Aiba walks into the bedroom, he’s greeted by a quiet “yosh” from Ohno, who is stretching languidly in the middle of the bed. He has escaped from the blanket pile currently smothering Jun and Sho, spooned together on one side of the california king bed, Jun’s arms wrapped tightly around Sho’s torso. Ohno’s eyes follow Aiba’s path as he goes from closet to bathroom, brushing his teeth. Ohno joins him, making sure to muffle the sounds he makes as he brushes his back molars, much appreciated by Aiba - if Jun wakes up, he will notice the floor downstairs.   
Aiba takes his toothbrush to the suitcase, tucking it into the outer pocket. He checks his pants pocket - passport, wallet, lucky video game credit card from Nino’s favorite arcade in Akihibara. When he gets downstairs, he tosses his keys into the green basket; he won’t be needing them until he gets back. 

Nino is in the car already, waiting; he’s literally the only one who can bear to see them off. The others are best at saying their lingering goodbyes the night before with tongue, teeth, and touch. Aiba places his bag in the trunk and slides into the passenger seat, clicking the seatbelt latched as the car rumbles to life and Nino backs out of the driveway, taking the pair down the familiar streets. It is not until they are on Aqua Line that Nino reaches out and slowly turns up the radio. 

Aiba takes his hand as it withdraws from the radio and holds it in his lap, interlacing their fingers and delighting in Nino’s warm hamburger hand. The 30 minutes passes with the quiet sounds of the radio and Aiba staring at Nino’s profile, silent and together. 

Nino pulls into the Departures lane and gets out to help Aiba gather his things. Aiba only has the one bag, but Nino knows this is his last chance to pull Aiba’s body tightly against his own.

“Your four days starts now,” he mutters, low against Aiba’s throat. “Do not let anyone dare harm a hair on your head. Do not feed the pythons by hand. Do not make friends with a crocodile.” 

Aiba smiled as he looped both arms around Nino’s body and squeezed, hard. “I will be fine, it will be fine, take care of the idiots for me.” He finally lets go and, blinking hard, grabs his bag and turns to the sliding glass doors. 

“You know, right?” Nino shouts after him, right before he reaches them. The grin Aiba throws over his shoulder is absolutely beatific, both remembering the very first time. 

“Idiot,” Aiba laughs, saying his line. His heart skips with the adventure waiting for him ahead, secure as he is of what, and who, will be there to greet him when he returns. It’s so much better to take off from solid ground. 

Nino rides home in silence, his heart too heavy to even turn the dial of the radio. It was just before 8 a.m., and a long day of work stretched ahead of him. He needed to head to TBS and pick up the script for episode 1; he needed to practise the choreography from yesterday (alone, this time); and he needed to make sure that his equipment was set up to record for the new album. 

When he gets home, Jun is standing out by the front door. Obviously still in early mode, Jun has a much coveted and anticipated day off today but has still gotten up to receive Nino’s return. 

“Did you see him off properly,” Jun, all rumpled hair and pouty lips, is the perfect target for Nino’s impotent wrath.   
“If you cared that much, you would’ve gone with me,” Nino starts. Jun rolls his eyes and accepts the tirade for what it is. Nino’s stormy countenance is not new; unless he’s distracted, coddled, patiently brought back down now, they will have to deal with Nino’s scathing tongue for the next three days and, Jun checks his watch, 14 hours. He reaches for Nino’s arm as he tries to pass into the house and raises an eyebrow at Nino’s tone. 

Not one to be cowed that easily, Nino jerks his arm free and pulls open the front door, bypassing the genkan and continuing to stomp all the way up the stairs. Jun calmly follows him inside, taking the keys that Nino threw onto the hallway table and tucks them into his neon orange basket. He takes a few minutes to sort through the mail they received at the front of the house, all of it addressed to Sho except for a fishing magazine and Nino’s “guitar pick of the month” subscription. He plays mailman for a moment, tucking mail into requisite baskets, and heads the rest of the way into the house. 

Taking a moment, and a quick sip of coffee, he starts opening all the blinds and pushing the windows open a fraction to let the ocean breeze draft into the room. Although it is a day off, Matsumoto Jun is not known to be idle; he starts picking up Nino’s video game marathon detritus. After the pizza, and after the pizza, Nino had left the bedroom and gone back downstairs. Jun knows he didn’t sleep by the mounds of candy wrappers, paper plates, and beer cans currently littering the living room. Jun, trashbag in hand, makes quick work of removing waste and straightening the coasters and the leather-bound photo albums that lay on the table. 

“Nino kicked me out,” Sho says calmly, surprising Jun who did not hear him come down the stairs. He leaned into the downstairs restroom, making the final adjustments to his tie. Jun walks over and pulls him out, straightening his shirt and undoing Sho’s tie. Quickly, with confidence, Jun knots the tie into a more intricate knot that better complements the rest of Sho’s suit of the day. He uses the tie as a convenient lead and pulls Sho down for a lingering kiss, struggling to keep his hands out of Sho’s hair before work. Sho has no such need for restraint, wrapping his hand around the back of Jun’s neck while using the other to tug him closer. His tongue requests entry and Jun’s mouth complies, and they spend a few minutes leaning against the wall, enjoying each other’s mouths while Sho gets a second-hand caffeine and sugar rush. 

Sho reluctantly pulls away. He has to head in to work and, although he would rather spend a few more minutes, if he doesn’t get going now he will be late. Although he has finished his drama, Sho is still needed at Johnny’s. He uses his background in the study of economics to help determine when kouhai groups should release albums and singles, what season they should go on tour. It is an additional way that Arashi is dedicated to all the once-Juniors that continue to support them and say their names. The give and take is extraordinary, and with the ever-present feeling of thankfulness, Sho is committed to his work. 

As Sho shuffles out the door, Jun finds the broom and sweeps up Aiba’s morning mud, followed by grabbing the mop and giving the spot a quick once-over. He’s bent over in the backyard, emptying the mop bucket, when he hears a camera shutter and tenses, looking up and over his shoulder quickly to the sound of another camera shutter. 

And then, laughter. And more laughter, as Ohno and Nino stand in the doorway, like they are holding up the door, Nino’s old Nikon in their hands. Nino has changed into another pair of jeans, Aiba’s this time, and a threadbare t-shirt advertising Super Mario Brothers 3 on the Famicom. He’s got on those boots that Jun just loves, and his effortless sense of comfort and style makes Jun furious and takes his breath away, in equal measure. 

“Go to work, Nino!” Jun shouts, and Nino’s laugh continues to echo through the house as he crosses through the house, rummages in his basket, and heads out the front door. Ohno’s soft smile is now aimed in Jun’s direction, but Jun is not pacified. Ohno opens his eyes wide, in that expression that was first brought out for Nakai on Utban, and says, “but I thought you liked butts!” Ohno’s laughter precedes him as he runs in in the house and upstairs; Jun, having dropped the bucket, in hot pursuit. 

“I’ll show you butts!” Jun says, as he catches him in the doorway to the bedroom. Ohno, previously swift imp, now compliant siren, turns into Jun’s arms in invitation. 

“Please do,” he says, as he nibbles his way up Jun’s chin, past the cute mole, and finally capturing his lips. It’s a good thing, Jun thinks, that he has the day off today.


	5. Pineapple, Part 2: The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the transition from "implied" to "explicit," just so you don't end up shocked. 
> 
> So many people to thank for this work - juulchii, Destiny the Potato, all of you who have joined me in this break's Arashi viewing matsuri. Thank you so many T__T
> 
> This story is still in progress, but my break is ending so updates might slow down for the next several of weeks. :( But, there's a lot more that I have in mind for this story, so please stick with me til the end!

The days pass in an uneasy, restless fashion. Aiba’s absence is keenly felt. Nino’s unusually attached to Ohno’s side, and Ohno is having difficulty finding the alone time he needs to work on his art. 

On day two, he’s about reached his limit. He’s got that fishing trip this weekend, after all, and he just can’t neglect his work (even though he would like to; but Arashi did not get to have so many fans and do so many concerts and now, all of this flexibility with how they do the concerts by slacking). So, in true leader fashion, he decides to compromise. 

Nino wakes up on the couch, drool running down the side of his face. He’s stiff, he’s achey, and, by golly, he doesn’t have to work today so why is he even seeing sunlight. He blinks a couple of times and stretches fully before his ears realize what’s missing. The slight high-pitched hum of his electronics is absent. His eyes shoot open and he sees the overhead fan still turning on the ceiling, so he knows they haven’t lost power. They’ve been robbed. 

He attempts to jump to his feet, but unbeknownst to him someone has wrapped him so tightly in a blanket that he gets tangled and he falls right on to the coffee table. Ohno arrives in the midst of the battle of the blanket, and helps him get free from its insidious clutches.   
“What else is gone?” Nino asks, in a panic. Ohno’s eyes smile at the corners as he takes Nino’s hand in his. Nino, frantic, pulls away and starts looking over Ohno’s shoulders. He sees the media shelf to the right of the television, and his panic lessens slightly; he sees his first edition copy of Dragon Quest, still sealed, sitting in prominent display - meaning whoever broke into the house and stole his consoles were just doing it for the quick money. He’s got enough in his savings to replace them, and… 

Ohno chooses that second to kiss him, slowly, thoroughly. As usual, when he is kissed this way by Ohno, Nino loses complete sense of himself. He allows his shoulders to lose their tension and he practically melts into a puddle on the floor. 

When Ohno senses that Nino’s panic has abated enough to be sensible, he releases him from the kiss. “There is no robber, Kazu. I just thought you would like some company, so I unplugged them and moved them to my art room. But, I don’t know how to reconnect them, so that’s up to you.” 

Ohno’s second strategy of the day - giving Nino something concrete to complain about. 

“I can’t believe you,” Nino starts. “Did you even remember which cables go to which system?” As he starts making his way towards the studio, he’s obviously waking up as his movements become more graceful. Ohno appreciates the fact that he’s still wearing yesterday’s jeans, and makes plans to get those off of him as soon as the time is right. 

Ohno doesn’t follow immediately, and knew he had made the right choice when Nino comes running back downstairs. 

“You know I can’t play video games without a TV, right, Oh-chan?” 

Oh-chan actually has no idea; he sees Nino playing games in all different places in all different ways. He figures he’ll figure it out, and knows he’s right when Nino climbs behind the entertainment center, his thick but adept fingers pulling out plugs and untangling cables. Ohno gets lost for a moment, thinking about whatever else those fingers could be put to good use with, but snaps himself out of it - there is work to do. 

Nino utters a series of grunts that Ohno interprets as “help me get the TV up the stairs.” The pair of them ease it off the stand, and work their way up the stairs. It’s not heavy, but the stairs themselves make it awkward. As they walk into the studio, Ohno steps out of the way to let Nino get it situated where he wants to - happily ogling his rear end. Aiba really knows how to buy the right pairs of jeans. 

Nino finishes plugging in the PS4 and the Switch, then turns and catches Ohno’s stare, smirking. “If you want to get anything done, old man, you better keep your eyes to yourself.” Nino leaves the room, returning with a pair of pillows and throwing himself down in front of the TV. Ohno memorizes the look of his shoulders as Nino picks up the controller, the material straining, and wonders if Nino buys a size too small in order to accentuate the lithe muscles he does possess. 

After a few minutes of watching Nino choosing the appropriate outfit for Sackboy, Ohno heads to the closet. His fingers itch to work on the special project, but he can’t with company. So, instead, Ohno pulls out a blank canvas and his sketchbook. He has an image in mind that he had started working on a while ago; Kisarazu at sunset in the colors of its soul. He finds his brushes and gets started. 

Hours later, Ohno tilts his head to the side and pulls his tongue back in his mouth. This painting is good, good enough for today. He glances at Kazu, sound asleep on his belly, and decides it’s time to get something else done for the day. He pulls out the Kazu panel; a little short, a little skinny, a little smol. He adds some more details, now that he has finished the spray paint portion and can work inside. 

He hears the door downstairs slide open and a brisk “I’m home” wafting up the stairs. He hastily pulls the cover over the painting and slips downstairs. He gets there right after Sho sheds his shoes, and he watches as Sho shrugs his suit jacket off; the comparison between his shoulders and Nino’s is a delight for Ohno’s artistic brain. The lines are completely different; broad versus slim, and his fingers itch to sketch them moving together. You can tell in Sho’s posture that he is worn, that it was a long day. 

He meets Sho in the kitchen and they share a brief kiss. “Kazu’s asleep,” he mumbles to Sho. “On the floor, in the art studio?” 

Sho chuckles at that and skims a kiss along Ohno’s brow. “Thank you for watching out for him today, Satoshi. I know the first day is always the hardest.” 

Ohno hums an acknowledgement, but turns serious eyes towards Sho. “I need to work out the kinks in the choreography for the first dance break, Sho-kun. I can’t…”

Sho puts his finger over Ohno’s lips, stopping the sentence before it has to get any farther. “Don’t worry about it, Leader. I’ve got this. He’s sleeping right now, right?”

Ohno nods, hugging Sho tightly before leaving him down while he heads to the music room. Sho, now with time on his hands, glances around the downstairs. There are a few dishes piled up in the sink, and now that he’s looking closely he can tell exactly where Jun mopped yesterday and what still needed to be tackled. 

He heads up to the bedroom and quickly sheds out of his suit, his movements graceful but curt; he pulls on some old jeggings that he’s had for years - which stick to his thighs like a second skin, but for once nobody is around to appreciate or comment. He digs through Jun’s side of the closet for an old, soft concert t-shirt (not one they wear (those have way too much attached bling); excess merchandise that Jun brings home after the final) and pulls it on over his head. He peeps into the art studio on his way back down, and Nino is still passed out on the floor; he leaves the repetitive music on because he knows Nino is a light sleeper, and not having the background music would actually wake him up instead of let him sleep better. 

Sho gets downstairs and retrieves the broom. Starting in the kitchen, he lets the feeling of pushing and pulling the broom relax and soothe him after the long day with SIXTones. They debuted last year, but are struggling to prepare for their first concert after their album dropped last month. He smiles when he thinks of the kind of memories they are making together, how much they will one day look back on with fond pride. Maybe not as special as the memories Arashi made, but… 

He drops down the half step between the dining room/kitchen area and into the living room itself. Their large sofa (which Aiba has nicknamed “Shofa”) takes up the majority of the space, which is not something they have ever complained about. The first couch in this space was actually a couch and loveseat combo, and they always ended up squished onto the sofa part and left the loveseat by itself, adrift in the corner of the room. Now, they have an extra large sofa and a recliner, just on the off-chance Oguri or Inoue stop by. Sho diligently shifts the sofa around on its casters to get underneath, knowing that he won’t get away with a job poorly done. 

Eventually, he’s swept, mopped, and finished the dishes. The counters are wiped down, and it is almost shining. He glances at the clock and notices that it is past 21:00; definitely late enough that he could start heading to bed. He checks his phone and sees a text from MatsuJ; he’s going to go out with Oguri and probably won’t be home til morning. Sho texts back a quick confirmation and heads back up the stairs. 

When he goes into the studio, Nino is sprawled out on his back, arm thrown across his face, hair gone spikey at the top. Sho gets a soft smile that bends further wrinkles into the corners of his eyes. He leans down next to him, brushing the fringe out of his eyes. Thinking of the opportunity, he pulls out his phone and snaps a quick picture, making sure to get enough light in the image to see the drool line going down the right side of Nino’s face. 

Nino stirs at the sound of Sho’s phone camera, but doesn’t wake up. Sho is able to get his left arm under the back of Nino’s legs, his right halfway across Nino’s shoulder blades, before Nino’s eyes blink open slowly. 

“Sho-chan, what are you doing?” Nino mumbles sleepily. Sho just lifts with his knees, carrying the slight man down the hallway and into the bedroom. He places him gently in the middle of the bed, peeling off his socks and beginning to work on his belt buckle. As he finishes undoing the belt and pulling the strap free, Nino’s hips roll under him. 

“Sho-kun, if you wanted in my pants, you should’ve just asked,” Nino’s voice is unusually husky and deep. His hands start tugging on Sho’s shirt in revenge, but before he can do more than tug it above Sho’s pants, exposing his abs, Sho pulls back and yanks the entire shirt off over his head. Nino’s fingers take a moment to worship Sho’s stomach, dipping in the creases and smoothing the tight planes, before he allows his hand to make the dip below the elastic of Sho’s jeggings. Nino, tired, sleepy, compliant and soft Nino, reaches his hand around Sho’s member and squeezes tight, tugging from the base up to the sensitive tip once and then releasing him. 

Sho gasped as Nino laughs and wiggles free. He does not make it very far, as Sho uses this opportunity to grab his jeans by the waist and tug them down his legs. “But, Sho,” he murmurs breathlessly, “it’s time to go to sleep.” 

But, Sho’s interest has now shifted from “help Nino to bed” to “help bed Nino,” and all previous expectations were gone. Sho kicks his own pants off to the floor as he crawled up the bed, all sinewy muscle and bad intentions. 

When he catches him, he makes sure to skip past Nino’s erection, starting at his lower hips and nibbling up past his ribcage, pulling his shirt under his arms before taking a detour to his nipples. Nino gasps and strains against him, rubbing his lower body against Sho’s. Sho holds Nino’s upper body down with one arm while tugging his shirt off as Nino struggles below. Capturing Nino’s lips with his own, Sho drags his right hand up Nino’s body, resting on his hips as he deepens the kiss. He reaches between the two of them, making sure to align his cock just right against Nino’s. 

Nino takes over at this point, tilting his hips up and letting out small gasps as he pushes them together. Nino’s teeth grind together as he works them closer to the edge. He bites his lips and then grabs a fistful of Sho’s hair, pulling down his mouth and kissing him, letting his tongue mimic the movement of his hips. His other hand reaches up under his pillow, pulling out the lube. He uses one hand to pop the bottle open, and then pulls away from Sho, thoroughly coating his palms with the cool liquid. 

Nino pushes Sho over until he is on his back and drapes himself over the other man, capturing his lips again but keeping his left hand between their legs, using it to grasp both cocks and roughly pulling, increasing the pace until Sho’s breath is coming in stuttered gasps, Nino’s mirroring closely. Nino leans and nibbles on Sho’s earlobe, which is the last straw as Sho shudders and comes in Nino’s hand. 

The larger man then roughly shoves Nino over onto his back and takes the entirety of Nino’s cock into his mouth, pushing down until it hits the back of his throat. Nino’s broken moans spur him on, hands in Sho’s hair, hips thrusting as Sho traces up and down with his tongue, circling the tip and working his way back down, noting in the back of his mind that Nino picked pineapple-flavored lube for his pleasure. Nino’s hips become frantic as he approaches his release, and he chokes out “Sho” right as he comes down his throat. 

Once their breathing evens out, Sho gets up and saunters to the restroom, returning with a warm washcloth (and his mouthguard) and helping to clean the stickiness off of Nino’s hands and their thighs. He then plops on to the bed next to Nino and pulls him into his arms, cuddling him close. Nino, having almost immediately returned to his sleepy, soft, state, loops his arm around Sho and kisses him on the underside of his chin. 

Before Sho has the chance to even think about what to feed Nino for “dessert,” the time-honored tradition for when Nino thinks ahead enough to provide Sho’s mouth with additional stimulation, Nino’s mouth is open in soft huffs of breath, even, slow. Sho gives in to the relaxation and lets up and down rhythm of Nino’s chest lull him into a sweet, deep, sleep.


	6. An old friend, an old farm

Aiba waits in the terminal, cap pulled down over his eyes, sunglasses on, collar popped up past his cheeks from his pullover; he hopes the security discretely surrounding him is far enough away to not just draw attention to the fact he is there.  His fingers tap, once, twice, against the handle of his bag - his plane landed a good ten minutes early, but  _ he should’ve been here by now.  _

 

Finally, he spots Jun’s granite-colored LC 500h pull into the roundabout and he dashes up to the passenger door, tugging on the handle until the lock releases.  He slides into the red leather, glad that Jun already has the air conditioning blasting at full strength. He pulls the hat off of his head, exposing a massive case of hat-hair, but leaves the sunglasses  on as he closes the door behind him. 

 

Jun eases the car out into traffic, barely pressing the gas as the car leaps forward.  He loves his car, but can only truly appreciate driving it with Aiba in the passenger seat.  The other three always start groaning when the needle creeps past 112/kmh, and the Lexus was built for speed. Aiba places his hand onto the top of Jun’s thigh, squeezing briefly and enjoying the drive.  Jun’s eyebrows silently invite Aiba to begin spilling the details of his trip, and Aiba happily complies. 

 

“... there were so many dogs, Jun-kun! Everywhere, such friendly little street dogs. There were big ones, and little ones, and even though my guide kept telling me not to, I couldn’t help slipping them a little bite of what I was eating whenever I had the chance.”  Aiba continues talking about the dogs in Thailand for the entirety of the drive into Tokyo, not even realizing where they were until Jun pulls into the parking lot of Tokyo Animal Rescue. 

 

“I thought,” Jun says, facing away from Aiba and looking out the window at the entrance, “that with all of those pictures, you might want to bring one home?” 

 

The absolute silence in the car worries Jun for a minute, and he swings his body around in concern.  He finds Aiba staring at him, tears welling up in his eyes. Aiba snuffles noisily, running his hand across his face. 

 

“I thought, with the fur and the slobber and stuff, that we had decided not to get one,” Aiba finally gets out, his voice gone raspy with emotion. 

 

“Well, after I got the 70th picture of a cute creature holding a dog, I figured it might be worth the risk,” Jun’s response makes Aiba’s heart feel tight.  “And, I think that if I got to spend more time with one, I might be able to convince the other dogs that I’m not so bad so they’ll quit running away from me.” 

 

This comment knocks a laugh out of Aiba, who still feels stunned, like he’s been shot in the heart.  He reaches out and pulls Jun into a hug, which is awkward with the PRNDL in the way. Jun laughs, embarrassed, and ruffles Aiba’s hair.  “Come on, get your hat back on. I gave the staff here a call yesterday, and they’re staying open late just for us. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”  

 

Aiba flings off his seatbelt and climbs out of the car, running to the door of the shelter.  Jun follows more stately behind, and reaches out to open the door and usher Aiba in. The shelter smell fills Aiba’s nose; a little bit bleach - a little bit of what can’t be gotten up with it - but his excitement does not pale at all.  The staff welcome them, and a sweet girl leads them down the hall to a door, behind which excited barks could be heard. She pops the door open and ducks out of the way. 

 

“Please, take your time,” the girl said.  “Choosing a dog is personal, and I don’t want my relationships with them to influence your decision.”  She quickly demonstrated how the latch on the kennels worked, asking the men to please make sure that they returned each dog to the kennel before releasing the next one.  She asked them a couple of quick questions, to make sure they didn’t have a cat or other small creature that might not be a good match to some of the dogs. She then left them to their own devices. 

 

Aiba had stopped outside the third cage, squatting down to make eye contact with a chubby little bulldog with an underbite.  “Ahh, he’s so cute!” Aiba let the bully out for a few, chasing him around a bit, but eventually the dog flopped back down in his kennel, already worn out.  Aiba went ahead and closed him back in, latching the gate securely.

 

“I think you need a pup with a bit more enthusiasm,” Jun says, glancing around.  At the second kennel to the end, he sees her. A long, slender, puppy body. A head much too large for the rest of her. Her body was mostly black, but with white front paws splashed with additional black, as if she had splashed in an inky puddle.  Her baby snout was thrown back, emitting little yips of excitement at seeing their attention settle on her. 

 

Aiba bounces over to her kennel, opening the gate and letting her out. Immediately she starts zipping around the room, yipping and playing and having the best time.  Aiba grabs a small toy football and tosses it; the puppy grabs it and lopes back to him, holding the football until Aiba takes it and then sits down, tail wagging excitedly, until he tosses it again. 

 

Jun finds a couple of chairs situated on the other side of the room and takes a seat.  He pats his thighs and whistles a little, and the puppy runs towards him, skidding to a stop an inch away from slamming into his legs, tail a whirlwind and tongue flopping out the side of her mouth.  Her gangly legs and large paws indicate that her current 10 kg is going to be a small fraction of her final size; Jun isn’t quite sure if a  _ giant  _ dog is really what he intended when he brought Aiba here.  But then, Jun reaches and pats between her ears and under her chin, transforming her face into a slobbery canine grin and getting little barks of happiness in return, and his heart decides it really doesn’t matter.

 

He looks up from the pup to Aiba, and can already tell that he has decided.  Aiba confirms mere seconds later. 

 

“I’m already in love, Jun-kun.  When can we take her home?” 

 

Jun feels his heart clench tight in his chest.  This is a big step, but he knows that they’ve been ready for it for a while now; it was just waiting for the best time.  In response, he steps out of the little training room and signals the friendly and helpful staff member. She bustles over, and is so excited when she sees who they have decided to take home. 

 

“I have been waiting for her to find her new home! I am so excited that you have selected her, she’s so smart!” she exclaims over the pup, giving her one last pet session, before pulling out a collar from her apron and latching it around her neck.  She then grabs a leash off of the wall and clips it, before handing the other end of the leash to Aiba. 

 

As everyone shuffles out to the front room, Jun steps over to the counter to worry about paperwork while Aiba settles down on the floor, letting the puppy lick him in on his face and start wrestling on the floor.  

 

When Aiba asks him what her name should be, Jun replies simply, “Ana,” as if it is something he’s been considering for a very long time.  Aiba’s heart squeezes as he watches Jun solicit advice from the clerk about food and a local veterinary clinic, and then passes over the adoption fee.  He rounds up Aiba and Ana and they head outside. 

 

Only for him to stop, frozen, in sight of his car.  His beautiful, precious, leather interior, wonderful, two-seater car.  

 

“You’re holding her on your lap,” he says, and opens the passenger door for Aiba.  Who, by the way, does not mind, and snuggles the pup all the way home. 

 

***

 

Nino is angry about the dog. 

 

Not angry  _ at  _ the dog.  When Aiba comes into the house, carrying their new ball of fluff, his heart beats out of his chest and he has to grab the nearest person to be able to contain himself (which happens to be Ohno).  

 

He is angry, and let’s be honest: hurt, when Jun did not invite the rest of them to come and help pick out the pup.  He’s not sure how he feels now, that Jun and Aiba have this special creature  _ together.  _  They have a schedule all set up; Aiba takes care of walking Ana and Jun feeds her.  Aiba buys her one-time purchases, like the pink bed and sparkly collar. Jun has responsibility for food purchases and occasional snacks.  If there’s a reason to go to the vet, they will split it equally; if there’s a mess, Aiba is in charge. And, absolutely, number one -  _ Ana is not allowed on the couch.  _

 

He’s staring at the list of rules on the fridge, and his heart just hurts.  Was there a reason that Jun didn’t invite him along? He knows he was a little… snappy the past couple of days, but was he really insufferable? Now he is broody and his own mood is making Ana’s arrival home so much less than it should be and he hates himself for it. He  _ knows _ that Ana belongs to all of them, but… 

 

He grabs his keys from his bucket and makes his way to the door.  Ohno catches up to them and they head out to Nino’s SUV. Nino climbs in and barely waits for Ohno to catch up and buckle himself in before he’s thrown the vehicle into reverse and is heading out and over the Aqua Line. Ohno waits, patiently, for Nino’s arms to lose their tension - but it’s been 20 minutes and it doesn’t seem to be happening. 

 

Finally, after they have finished crossing Tokyo Bay and are passing Haneda, Nino’s terse voice cuts through the silence in the car.  

 

“Where do you even find chickens in Tokyo?” 

 

Ohno doesn’t even ask why they’re investigating this question; he just takes out his phone and thumbs through until he finds a number.  He connects the call, and tells Nino to take the next exit to a connecting highway. 

 

“Ah, grandpa.  It’s that Ohno, do you remember? Yeah, I lost that chicken!  How are your motorcycles?” 

 

Ohno chatters on for a few minutes, and then turns and asks Nino how many chickens he’s looking for.  He repeats the information into the phone, thanks the person on the other end, and disconnects the call.

 

They drive for another ten minutes before the silence is broken again. 

 

“He should have talked to all of us about it first, Oh-chan.  It’s a big deal, and I don’t think he completely considered whether or not any of us even wanted a dog.” 

 

Ohno is quiet for a minute, hearing the hurt the anger is trying very hard to mask.  He contemplates briefly if his next sentence will be a breach of confidence, but realizes that the two men in question will never clear the air without interference.

 

“Junpon has been planning this a long, long time, Kazu,” he finally says.  “He’s wanted to surprise Aiba with a pup for a year or so now, and well - he figured if you were forgiven for the turtles… a puppy is nothing, comparatively.” 

 

Nino thinks about this for the next several miles. Ana is cute. Aiba’s face with Ana is cuter.  Jun’s face is sometimes cutest (but definitely not when Nino is mad; aka right now). He remembers the five turtles he gave Jun forever ago, that Jun eventually ended up donating to the local aquarium, and a laugh starts as a snicker and ends with him gasping for air and Ohno thumping him on the back as he desperately tries to pull over to the side of the road before he causes an accident. 

 

When Nino finally has control of himself again, he pulls the SUV back out onto the road. 

 

“Where are we going? Have I missed a turn yet?” 

 

“Oh, uh, remember the chicken farm that Sho-chan and I went to, in the very beginning of Mago Mago?” 

 

“Yeah, the old guy that loved Harleys and made you carry the parachute weight trainer thing.  Wow, he must be 85 years old now…” 

 

Ohno nods, and then begins a conversation regarding the chickens and grandparents and how much he’s kept in touch with them over the years.   The conversation, getting Nino up to speed, sets the tone for the rest of the drive. By the time they arrive in Akiruno, the tension has left Nino’s shoulders and he’s laughing and happy.  He and Ohno clamber out of the car and head up to the entrance to the farm.

 

They’re met outside the barn by Grandpa, who has a box tucked under his arm.  Ohno introduces Nino to him, and the two hit it off by talking about how they have both previously bullied Leader and how much they still think about the grandparents they met on the show.  Ohno is impressed, gratified, and thankful to see that his drawing is still hanging in the room where Sho had sat for so long, cleaning and separating eggs. 

 

Eventually, they accept the box of chickens.  Nino counts, and there are five cute balls of fluff in the box.  Grandpa hands them a list of materials they need to pick up to raise the chicks well, and Nino and Ohno pile back into the SUV.  Ohno settles the box on the floorboards at his feet, and they follow Grandpa’s instructions across town to the farm store; they get lamps, water trays, food trays, and a small coop that just slides into the back of the Pajero.  They decide together that Sho will assemble it on his next day off, and that Nino will place cameras so they can all enjoy the chaos afterwards. 

 

The sun is setting as they again cross the Aqua Line, pulling into the drive as the sky turns coral and purple and orange.  Aiba and Ana are in the side yard, and Nino finally sinks to his knees to accept the pup’s greeting and to greet her properly as well.  He kisses her soft ears and whispers “I’m sorry,” low enough that only Ohno hears. 

 

Aiba, meanwhile, has dropped the leash by Nino’s capable hands and has wandered to the SUV, curious.  He peers into the cargo area first, unable to distinguish anything but a large box and several smaller bags with stuff inside.  He goes around to the passenger door and pulls it open, surprised to hear small sounds coming from the floorboards. 

 

Aiba picks up the box, carefully.  He has a great feeling about this, and that feeling is absolutely confirmed as he opens the box and counts five, chirping, fuzzy, yellow heads.  His roar of “CHICKENS” is heard at his parent’s restaurant, a solid 20 minute drive away, and pulls a curious Jun out of the house. 

 

When Jun appears, a frown on his face, Nino can’t help but take in his casual attire; from the oversized blue button-down shirt, to the khakis snug against his legs, house slippers still on as he leans out the door to see what all the noise is about.  His arm is outstretched, allowing his upper body to lean further, and Nino knows that the hand at the end of that arm has four rings; one to signify his bond with each of them. 

 

Nino remembers the feeling of that night, when Jun had laid the rings out on the table in front of them, letting them all know his plans and desires; Nino, always quickest to catch on, immediately grabbed the silver fidget ring and slid it over the knuckles on Jun’s middle finger.  Nino remembers glancing up and seeing the happiness in Jun’s eyes, the thankfulness in his kiss as, for once, Nino did not crack a wise comment or complain about the sentimentality. And, later, Jun letting Nino know how amused he was that Nino knew that Jun’s middle finger was his - how the obscene American gesture fit their cynical views of everything… everything but this. 

 

“Can we talk?” Nino gestured back into the house. “Please?”  He walked to Aiba and took the box out of his arms, handing the box and Ana’s leash to Ohno and gesturing away from the house.  “Can you?”

 

Ohno, wise as ever, asks Ana if she wants to go for a walkie, and Nino’s eyes track the pair down the street (stopping to set the chicks, safe in their box, by the gate).  As they turn a corner and are out of sight, Nino pulls Aiba back up towards the house. He hasn’t caught on yet, and is still exclaiming about the chickens, but Jun’s eyebrows are mostly into his hairline as Nino takes Jun’s hand too and pulls both men into the house, up the stairs, and into the bedroom.  When he gets them there, Nino releases their hands and sends them into the room as he turns and closes the door behind him. 

 

“I don’t actually want to talk,” Nino says.  “Although I am aware I owe you both an apology.” With those few words, Nino pulls over the chair in the room (Sho’s, for reasons).  Jun and Aiba had settled on the bed, but Nino reaches out and grabs Jun by the hand, pulling him over and settling him in the chair.  “Don’t move,” he says, as Aiba makes a sound of protest, but Nino reaches back and puts one finger over Aiba’s lips. 

 

“First, a show,” he says, stalking over to the stereo by the dresser and selecting the Nino mix.  As hard beats start pounding through the room, he slowly pulls his shirt over his head. As soon as it is gone, he stops by the bed and captures Aiba’s lips, smiling as he gasps, and settles on the bed behind him.  He reaches his hands under Aiba’s shirt, stroking across his chest and smiling while meeting Jun’s eyes, as Aiba jumps under his touch. He finds a nipple and pinches it, seeing Aiba’s response reflected in the expression on Jun’s face.  He tilts his head and nibbles on Aiba’s neck, never breaking eye contact as Jun’s knuckles go white on the arms of the chair. 

 

He takes his time removing Aiba’s shirt, making sure to trace each ridge of muscle that Aiba has gained from acrobatic feats and his morning run.  As the shirt is finally pulled over his head, Nino’s face flashes a wicked grin in Jun’s direction as he briefly dives under the waist of Aiba’s pants, teasing his cock before withdrawing his hand.  Jun’s eyes are lasers that Nino can feel following his every move. Nino sucks on Aiba’s neck one more time, eliciting another moan before he breaks connection completely.

 

Nino knows that the thin sweatpants he wore today are doing nothing to hide his erection, and he walks towards Jun, making damned sure Jun was aware.  Aiba has caught on now, and it’s his turn to watch as Nino climbs into Jun’s lap, settling his hips in such a way that Nino’s dick is pressing hard into Jun’s stomach when he leans in to capture his lips.  Nino feels Jun’s desperation to be touched, and he laughs a little while intentionally squirming around. His fingers trace circles down from Jun’s ears to his collarbone, and he ducks his head down to nip briefly before he leans all the way back in the chair, becoming almost vertical.  

 

In this position, now, he can see Aiba’s eyes as he wraps his legs around Jun’s hips, pulling him forward in the chair, and takes Jun’s hands and places them on his own hips.  He then runs his own hand over his chest, circling his nipples and pinching tightly before working his way down. He watches Aiba’s face as his hands slip under the elastic at his waist, before he slides the elastic down and makes sure that both men can see the pre-cum beading at the top of his cock.  He makes sure to tease himself, slowly running a single finger from the tip of his dick down to the base, catching Aiba’s eyes as he licks his own lips. 

 

“Enough,” Jun’s growl is almost lost under the sound of Aiba’s heavy breathing, and suddenly Nino is lying on the bed next to Aiba, who is now free to touch.  Aiba’s hands immediately start teasing his nipples and his mouth becomes attached to Nino’s collarbone. Within seconds, Nino’s sweatpants and underwear are gone, replaced by the feel of Jun’s warm mouth.  Jun takes him in completely, and then, in the worst tease of all time, disappears. Aiba will not let go of his mouth for long enough for Nino to figure out where Jun has gone, and suddenly Aiba’s mouth disappears and his cock is suddenly seeking entrance to his mouth, which Nino is more than happy to provide. 

 

The bed dips and Jun is back, his mouth wrapping around Nino’s dick so suddenly that he can’t help arching off the bed, moaning around Aiba’s dick, on which he is slowly working his mouth up and down.  He feels pressure on his inner thighs and he spreads his legs to provide Jun with the access the broad man requests. As he gets distracted by what is happening to his own cock, Aiba starts thrusting into his mouth, hands fisted in his hair to make sure he is achieving the best angle. 

 

Nino feels pressure and then two warm, soft, unyielding fingers press into him.  He can’t help but let out a moan as he tries not to cum, closing his mouth tighter around Aiba’s dick as Jun works his fingers in and out of him.  Jun takes away his mouth as he adds a third finger, and Nino screams as Aiba’s hand encircles his cock. “Uh, uh, nope, not yet, Kazu,” Aiba mutters.  “You’re not done saying sorry.” Jun’s fingers continue to pump into Nino’s body, stretching, creating just the right amount of sweet burn that pulls out a long groan from Nino.  Jun’s delight in this perfect misery doesn’t help keep Nino’s lust in check; he must be ready, he has to be ready. “Now, Jun, I need it.” 

 

Jun grins and then removes his fingers, lubing and then lining up his cock, pressing into Nino’s hot, tight, hole.  Aiba stops thrusting and circles his fingers tight around the base of Nino’s dick, keeping him from coming, as Jun works his cock in deeper.  Finally, Jun bottoms out and then begins thrusting in and out, and Aiba strokes his cock in and out of Nino’s mouth. The feeling of them both, with Aiba’s hand around Nino’s dick, is too much and he cums, spilling his seed all over his stomach and chest.  The sight of Nino’s release is enough for Aiba, who thrusts hard one more time until he empties, pulsing onto Nino’s tongue. Jun pulls Aiba over and kisses him as Aiba’s dick continues it’s last twitches in Nino’s mouth. Aiba’s complete relaxation is the final straw for Jun, and his fingers leave marks in Nino’s skin as he slams his hips into Nino’s at a frantic pace, finally collapsing over the smaller man as Nino feels the final shudders deep inside his body. 

 

Breathing hard, Jun’s weight heavy on him, Aiba warm beside him, Nino feels his churning emotions finally settle.  He picks up Jun’s hand, twirling their fidget ring, and uses his other arm to make sure that Aiba is settled in close next to him.  Aiba’s voice is as warm as his soul, as he whispers “we forgive you” as Nino relaxes into a well-deserved nap. 

 

Ohno, Ana, and the chickens make it safely through the front door.  Ohno pauses at the foot of the stairs, listening upward, but hearing no raised voices, just the bass sounds of the Nino mix.  He smirks and unclicks Ana’s lead, letting her dash into the kitchen to her water dish. 

 

Pulling out his instructions from Grandpa, he assembles the temporary chicken-warmer and places it inside the bathtub downstairs, suspending the heating element above.  He makes sure that the chicks have plenty of feed and water and then he bustles around getting the house ready for bed. He returns before heading upstairs, picking up each little chick and giving it a pat and a name; with Nino as their father, they become Sanno, Yonno, Gonno, Rokuno, and Cocky the rooster.  Ohno smiles at that, knowing Nino will appreciate being able to go on television and talk about how much he loves Cock-y. With that, he turns off the bathroom light and shuts the door, calling Ana behind him as he takes the stairs two at a time to bed.

 

Ohno bears witness to the aftermath.  It is Ohno’s gentle and warm hands that clean the sticky mess from all three men.  The unexpected touch startles Jun awake, but he is quick to realize who it is and what is going on.  Ohno tucks the blankets around the pile of exhausted male and finishes his own preparations for bed. He slides in next to them, satisfied and oh-so-happy when hands, arms, legs snake out to include him in the contented jumble. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the idea of ~never writing at a rating above PG-13~ is well and truly dead now. Whoops.   
> As always, thank you MagiCraft for pushing me! ♥ And everyone else I trick into reading, thank you.


	7. KisaChina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back at work, so it took me over a week, many apologies :) Have fun!

The following month passes quickly; with everyone home as much as they can be, all together and happy. Ohno goes on many summer boating trips, but Nino is kept too busy by his drama to notice, much. There are times he comes home and Ohno immediately meets him at the stairs; there are other days when Ohno isn’t home that whoever is home stands in his stead. Otherwise, he and Jun practice lines in the backyard while Jun throws the ball for Ana. Aiba hires someone to install a better fence with a more secure gate, for both Ana and the chickens, and life carries on.

One morning, Sho stretches out an arm, meeting Aiba’s side. It is early morning, and as the only two early risers (not counting Ohno’s second-life as a fisherman), Sho and Aiba have built their own, separate routine to tick down the hours until the house is fully awake. Aiba murmurs sleepily under his breath, but eventually enough pokes from Sho convince him that it really is time to wake up and get started on their day. 

Sho, up first, digs through the dresser in the corner of the room. He pulls out an oversized tank top for himself but tosses Aiba an old sweater of his, with cuff gone ratty with years of excessive use. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and handing another to Aiba, Sho shuffles out of the bedroom with as much quiet as he can, bopping down the stairs and preparing their water bottles. Aiba appears a few moments later, eyes half-lidded with sleep, and toes on his shoes while accepting his water bottle. Ana, woken up by the quiet rustling, meets them and Aiba pulls down her leash from where it hangs on the wall by the door and clips it on her collar. Sho opens the door and lets the two go in front of him, while he brings up the rear; checking to make sure he has his keys and that he has locked the door behind them. 

The two men head down towards the river, strides syncing as they reach a pace where they are getting exercise but can still maintain a conversation. By the time they’ve hit the mile marker, Aiba has woken up enough to begin remarking on how quiet the neighborhood remains; how pretty the birdsong is; how Ana has really come far in being able to run with them without getting tangled - with bushes or with them. 

They’re at the five mile mark when Aiba wakes up enough to realize what day it is. 

“Sho-- it’s June first! We have less than three weeks!” 

“It’s fine, Aiba; it’s not like it’s last year, when I needed six months of finagling to get us that week off.” The year before, as a joint celebration of Nino and Jun’s 40th birthdays, they had taken a week’s vacation to Hawaii, spending the days snorkeling, playing in the sand and sunbathing; the nights were just as hot. Sho bought their house in Kisarazu less than a month after their return from that trip. 

“Well, that’s true, but someone should’ve reminded me that June comes after May. Usually Nino reminds me like…. A thousand times. But the drama has kept him really distracted. What if we had missed it?”

“We never would have missed Kazu’s birthday, Aiba. But what do you have in mind?” 

As Aiba begins detailing his plans, obviously concocted on the spot but no less grand, Sho’s face grew redder and redder as his smile grew bigger and bigger. 

“He will love it, Aiba! I’ll start arranging our schedules when we get back!” 

Ana, with curious levels of understanding, barked in agreement and then turned them around, back towards home. It was time to get to work. 

***

Nino was suspicious.

It all started last Saturday. Aiba and Sho had left for their run, like usual, but on their return home they were full of giggles. Aiba had immediately dragged Jun out of the house for a “shopping trip,” and Nino was sure they were going to come home with 18 thousand pairs of jeans (taking up the space in the closet he usually reserved for his … more special manga). Sho had immediately gotten on his phone; not calling anyone but typing away in an almost feverish manner. Sho, who Nino loved dearly, did not really socialize outside of the five of them; sure, there’d be business dinners and family dinners and some dinners with just him and Ohno because the other three had other commitments. However, Sho didn’t have friends, he had business contacts. Nino wondered what was so special that they needed to start talking about it on a Saturday. 

Nino tried dirty tactics to get answers. Even under his own brand of exquisite torture (if he were to say so himself), Aiba was playing his cards terribly close to his chest. Sho and Jun did not go anywhere alone, so as not to be ambushed. And Ohno was just so good at acting clueless, as he had for so many years on their variety and game shows, that Nino had no idea whether or not his claims of innocence were real. 

Nino realized that it was going to end up a waiting game. And if it was waiting that led him to victory, as with any game, he would do what it takes. He did, however, manage to wheedle out from Jun what he was getting him for his birthday - a switch. That led to some really exciting possibilities as to what they could possibly be planning.

Thus, he wasn’t terribly surprised when Aiba “remembered” it was his birthday on the morning of. The mystery unravelled even more when his manager let him know, minutes after wishing him a happy birthday, that his daily schedule had been reduced and that he could leave early that afternoon. He was a little confused as to why the manager had also let him know that he went ahead and gave him the day off on Saturday; the manager said it was in anticipation of an early wrap-up of the drama filming, but Nino knew it was just to deflect attention away from whatever that idiot Aiba had planned for this evening.

After lunch, Nino filmed a few additional takes of a scene with the young actress with hopeful eyes that had been cast opposite him. He knew she was disappointed that this wasn’t some romance drama, but he was giving his all to a period drama where he was destined to die an unanticipated, early death. The director finally called “Cut!” to end the day, and Nino changed back into his casual clothes as quickly as possible. He beat the rest of the cast to the vehicles on the lot, heading home to see what surprise his band mates had been struggling to hide for the past two and a half weeks. 

He arrived home to a silent and empty house. Odd, he thought, but it was just as likely that the other men had been hung up at work. Once inside, he let Ana out of her crate and invited her on the couch (fuck the rules). He then immediately flopped down himself; as the birthday boy, he was definitely due some video game time. At least, until someone came home to entertain him appropriately. 

Eventually, Nino heard footsteps outside and realized that he had put about five hours into the game - it was rapidly approaching 8 p.m. Eight. On his birthday. Ana jumped up and ran to the door, tail wagging. 

Aiba clambers in the front door, bearing cartons from KisaChina - the local Chinese takeout around the block - in his arms. Nino goes over and relieves him of some of the packages, bumping against his hips repeatedly on the way over to the dining room table. Aiba practically trips over him as he sets the rest on the table; then leans over and gives Ana some good scritches behind the ears, before turning the majority of his attention back over to Nino.

“Jun’s still stuck in a meeting with Yamada, transferring his cases over to the new guy, but he said it shouldn’t be much longer. Sho said he texted you, but you haven’t responded?” 

“Oh, no, I didn’t even look,” Nino wanders back to his phone in the living room and tabs through to his MMS folder. He selects Sho’s name and smiles a bit as Sho’s face winks back at him through the screen. However, he scrolls down and his face turns into a frown; Sho wishes him a happy birthday, but mentions that he’s sorry he’ll miss it since he’s going to stay at the family house tonight after Zero. 

Aiba notices his frown, and immediately misinterprets the cause. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Sho sent me with his present!” 

Nothing can take away the hollowness Nino feels knowing that there will be one less stupid face around the dinner table tonight, on his birthday, but his ears perk up at the mention of a present. “That’s a pity, but ok. Where’s Oh-chan?” Nino holds the camera up and takes a selfie, his face an evident frown indicative of his reaction to Sho’s absence for the evening, and hits send. 

At that moment, there’s a flurry of knocks at the door. Ana, ears perking up, bounds over to the door and almost causes the entering Ohno to trip over her; his ageless grace saves him as he carefully maneuvers around the bouncing puppy, carrying a pastry box in one hand and a yellow-wrapped parcel in the other. He juggles them both as he continues to dance with Ana, making his way to the table as well and dropping the items down carefully, gently. 

Nino grabs paper plates from the cabinets and the trio sit around the table, eating in a relaxed manner, making sure to save some of the fried rice and chicken with broccoli for Jun when he got home. Even after the food was gone, the companionship and laughter continued to fill the room. 

At a quarter to ten, Nino got up and got them beers from the fridge. Several beers in, Jun finally came through the door, disheveled and angry. He didn’t even glance in their direction, instead storming up the stairs and into their bedroom. The sound of the shower filled the sudden, awkward silence that his arrival had left. 

Nino played with the pull tab of his beer while staring down at the table. “Some kind of birthday, huh?” he couldn’t help but think, even though he knows that he has had a perfectly delightful evening, even if it hadn’t been exactly what he would have planned for himself. 

About twenty minutes later, Jun comes back down and the smell of the shower gel they all used drifted around him like a cloud. He walks over to the table, leaning down and giving Nino a thorough kiss. 

“I’m sorry that work had me that upset,” he said. “Happy birthday. I’ll be right back, I have to grab something from the car.” 

Ana follows Jun outside and back, the jingle of her collar tags the only thing truly breaking the silence. He comes back in carrying a broad, flat package, about a foot tall, wrapped in sparkling purple paper. He places it next to Ohno’s yellow parcel, and then falls onto his food like a starving wolverine. 

Nino gets up and grabs Jun a beer, placing it next to his plate, and Jun wolfs that down as well. Finally, the tension begins to leave his shoulders and he begins enjoying his food, even to the point of eyeing Aiba’s leftovers. Aiba slides them over to him and he finishes them off, requesting an additional beer with a quiet “please.” 

Eventually, Jun has finished eating, and Aiba clears the table while Ohno opens the cardboard box that has been hiding Nino’s cake since now. Simple, with strawberries and sugar (trust Ohno to remember Nino’s one-off comment about his dislike of whipped cream), the simple strawberry shortcake is perfect for a Nino celebration. Aiba lights the candles that he rummaged out of the kitchen, and they sing a gloriously harmonious “Happy Birthday,” just missing the individualized rap that Sho had written for each of them the year they were first all together. Nino’s a little wet around his eyes, but he pretends like it doesn’t matter. 

When it comes to presents, as always, Arashi does not fail in finding just the right thing for everyone. Nino, who was expecting Jun’s gift to be in a much different shape, decides to open that one second as he pull’s Ohno’s towards him. Aiba, as if waking from a doze, realizes that his offering is not on the table, runs off towards the stairwell. Jun and Nino smile upwards as they hear his running footsteps - first into Sho’s study, then into the music room - before he traipses back down and leaves two packages on the table. The one that is obviously from Aiba is some shape wrapped up in newspaper and tied off with twine to hold it all together. Sho’s is neat, an oblong box wrapped in red plaid with squared corners and a small, pre-made, bow stuck at right angles to the corner. 

Nino, mouth full of cake, tugs Ohno’s open - you cannot rip the wrapping paper, because sometimes there are little doodles on the inside, and Nino would never ever risk destructing a piece of Oh-chan’s art. However, their worth lies in their relative sparsity, and Nino is only a tiny bit disappointed when no art is revealed as he pulls back the paper.   
There is a box inside, and Nino casually pulls off the top and sets eyes on the most atrociously jarring pair of running shoes he has ever seen. Orange and blue are interwoven across the entire shoe, and the shoelaces are garishly neon blue. Nino has fallen in love, and immediately pulls them out of the box and slides them on (even with Jun’s admonishment that they aren’t to be worn in the house). 

Nino bops around the table to give Ohno an appreciative embrace, and Ohno makes sure to let Nino know that the shoes are made specifically and specially to prevent and mitigate back pain. He then whispers that “they have awfully good traction, too, for when you’re bracing against a wall” and Nino responds that they will need to make sure to test that out. 

Things progress smoothly, with Aiba giving him the new Dragon Quest game, Sho providing him with a leather jacket, soft and smooth but light enough for summer wear. And now, finally, the piece de resistance - Jun’s long-awaited switch. 

Jun slides the package down to Nino, who tries not to appear rushed as he pulls the packaging open. As he works his fingers under the side flaps, he is surprised to see the Nintendo logo. Throwing caution to the wind, he scrabbles against the wrapping paper until it is all gone, seeing a box that says it is the NEW Nintendo Switch XL. 

“What?” 

Jun, smirking, says “What, what?”

“First, this is not what I thought you meant by getting me a switch. And second, this does not even come out until September! I have been on the waiting list at SofMap for three months already.”

Nino, not one to allow himself to be entirely fooled, carefully unravels the packaging and looks at what can be nothing else than a brand new game console. His eyes meet Jun’s, mostly in shock, and Jun cannot help the amazingly goofy grin that takes control of his face now that he has successfully gotten his surprise past Nino. 

“I spoke with Haru-kun, who spoke with Yoshio-san, who spoke with.. It doesn’t matter. Just know that sometimes, it pays to be the top idol in Japan.” 

Nino leaps from his seat, jumping across the table to land himself in Jun’s lap and wrapping his arms tightly around Jun’s neck, making sure that he put all the appreciation and thankfulness that he felt into his kiss. However, the kiss was short lived, because not only was there a NEW Switch XL, Aiba had just pulled out a selection of games that were “First Release” for the NEW Switch XL, and Nino. Well. His dates with Dragon Quest were time-honored; even more so than the three men around him. 

Four hours later, Jun tucked him in on the couch and set his alarm. He had already called Nino’s manager, asking to give him just a little more time before he was expected to come in to work; he had just fallen asleep after all. The manager assumed that Nino had been out partying for a little too long and grumbled. Jun brushed a final kiss across Nino’s brow and then took himself back up the stairs to catch an hour or so of sleep; it had not been his birthday after all.

The next morning, Sho meets Nino at the entrance to the studio, tugging him over to the side and into the stairwell rather than up to the elevator. He leans against the wall, positioned perfectly to see up the stairwell, before pulling the slighter man over next to him and striking a casual pose - just in case someone happens to walk in while they’re talking. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it home last night,” Sho says, his voice low and raspy. “The producers wanted to meet with me after the broadcast, and I was already so tired I was worried about making it home. I had to call for a taxi to make it to the apartment.” 

Nino shrugs, his frustrations from yesterday rubbed away by a night battling slime while pushing through the first four “tutorial” hours of DragonQuest. “It’s ok, Sho-chan, I kind of expected it, since it was Monday. No biggie!” 

Sho still seems a little disgruntled by his absence, but changes the subject when he realizes that Nino is wearing his new jacket. He reaches forward to adjust the collar (Nino always lets it bunch up a little towards the neck) but barely has time before the door closing a couple of stories up break them apart. 

“Seriously, it’s fine,” Nino repeats. “Just buy me lunch, ok?”

Sho chuckles and follows Nino out of the staircase and over to the elevator, the plans he and Aiba have for this weekend swirling through his mind. 

“How goes the drama filming?” 

“Oh, that’s fine,” the elevator dings and the men step on board; Nino hitting the numbers for both of their floors. “Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, the usual. The staff is really amazing.” 

They’re rapidly approaching Sho’s floor, and right before they get there, he reaches out his hand and grabs Nino’s, squeezing hard. Their fingers separate right as the doors open, and Sho steps off with an all-too-casual “see you later” and quick wave. 

Once Nino returns back home that evening, the brutality of the shooting fades to the back of his mind as he becomes engrossed in the world of Dragon Quest. The days pass extremely uneventfully - Nino sees it all in the periphery of his tunnel vision surrounding the game. He’s so drawn in, he even forgets the promise of a birthday lunch that he extorted from Sho-chan on Tuesday. The other members, used to this video game trance, make sure to place easily-eaten snacks within proximity of his left hand and generally clear the detritus around him. Most days, Ana’s head is in Nino’s lap when they get home from work or other various activities, and he has taken to sleeping on the couch just for quicker access. 

***

Saturday dawns muggy and warm, with the radio weatherman forecasting thunderstorms in the late afternoon. Aiba and Sho get up extra early, to get their run out of the way, before returning to the house to get ready for the day. Aiba stopped by his car, pulling open the back passenger door and starting to dig through the detritus littered on the floorboards. He eventually came back up, holding a couple of bags from the local party store. He hands these to Sho and then opens his trunk, pulling a couple of wrapped parcels out of it. 

The two men quietly, carefully, sneak in the front door and Aiba tiptoes up the stairs, skipping the third stair and making sure to step fully on the right side once he is halfway up. He enters and heads towards the shower, shedding clothes in his wake. Sho appears a few minutes later, with a hot mug of coffee he presses into Jun’s hands as he shakes him awake. Sho pads after Aiba into the shower, but the water runs for a relatively short time; they have things to do, after all. 

Jun finishes his coffee mug and sets it on the end table, then rolls across the bed to where Ohno is sleeping on his back, left leg bent at a right angle and crossing under his left knee, an arm under his head and the other across his stomach. Jun props his chin on Ohno’s chest, blowing a steady stream of air up towards his nose. Ohno’s nose scrunches up as the air hits it, and Jun grins a little wider and scoots further up Ohno’s chest. He breathes in deep and blows air out again, grin turning into a smirk as Ohno takes his hand from behind his head and rubs at his nose. Jun wiggles until most of his weight is on Ohno, his face right in his as Ohno’s eyes blink open slowly. 

“It’s time to wake up,” Jun says, giving in to temptation and kissing the end of Ohno’s nose. “We’ve got to get ready for Kazu’s birthday.” 

Ohno stretches his arms above his head and arches his back; Jun doesn’t get up off of him and goes along for the ride. Suddenly, Ohno wraps both of his arms around Jun and flips the taller man under him, tangling their legs and catching Jun’s lips with his own. The kiss is short, but still leaves Jun panting as Ohno pushes up with his arms and presses his entire body against Jun’s before adroitly rolling to the side of the bed and getting up. Jun whines a bit, as Ohno saunters to the closet and pulls out a pair of jeans that fit his form, oh so well, and pulls them on. He tugs on a v-neck t-shirt made of thin cotton and disappears into the restroom to brush his teeth; Jun can hear the old-man noises he makes as he allows the brush to get too far back. 

Jun sighs; he doesn’t understand how Ohno can go from super sexy to old man in less than 20 seconds. He gets himself up out of the bed and dresses for the day, choosing things that he knows will appeal - dark purple fabric for his shirt, for rolling the sleeves part way up his forearms; those old jeans he has with the asymmetrical zipper that Nino loves and loathes in equal measure. He ducks into the bathroom and jumps into the shower right before Aiba’s hand reaches out and turns off the knob. Aiba and Sho step out and begin toweling dry while Jun allows the hot water to cascade down his shoulders and neck. He makes sure to stand just so in the stream of water so that the jet hits where his neck usually stiffens up. He takes a few minutes just to revel in the warmth, before he grabs the shampoo and suds up his hair. He grabs his natural sea sponge and soaps it up as well, running it across his chest and working down his abs. At this stage, he feels it; glancing up, he sees Aiba, Sho, and Ohno perched on the bathroom counter, staring at the progress of the sea sponge. 

Laughing, he shoos them off, remarking loudly that they’ll never get anything done if they continue at this rate. He finishes his shower and steps out of the spray, turning it off and picking up the closest purple towel. He dries off and steps up to the full length mirror, making sure that his cuffs are rolled to the perfect height for maximum forearm affect. He styles his hair carefully and shaves the scruff off of his face. 

As he walks into the bedroom, it is like he has been suddenly smacked straight into the sun. Everything has changed to yellow and orange, from the sheets and blanket on the bed to the streamers hanging from the ceiling fan to the door handles. There is a kitchen chair in the middle of the room, placed to face towards the bed, and that is also beribboned in the bright colors of the sun. Jun smiles and leaves the room, going into the closet in the study and pulling out a couple of packages that he and Aiba had purchased two weekends ago. 

In the meantime, Aiba has headed downstairs and started pulling out things for breakfast; some cereal, bread for toast, bananas for Jun. They have a busy day ahead of them, and probably won’t stop to eat until a little later. As he’s cutting up some strawberries, Ohno comes down the stairs and grabs the milk carton from the fridge, taking a swig straight from the bottle and then hastily looking around to make sure Sho had not caught him. He then takes the carton to the table and sets it in the middle before striding into the living room and rolling over the back of the couch to land on one sleeping Nino. 

There is a general commotion as limbs go flailing. Aiba chuckles as he pours the milk into his own cereal bowl and pops toast into the toaster. Muffled noises increase in volume, barks of laughter mixed in among the scramble as pillows fly above the back of the couch. He opts to lean against the counter for the show, narrowly missing a pillow flying by his head.

Eventually, Ohno crawls out around the front of the couch, with Nino’s unimpeded laughter following behind him. 

“I lost,” he whines in Aiba’s general direction, continuing the crawl until he reaches a kitchen chair and climbs up into the seat. Nino, generally rumpled, joins him at the table with hair sticking up at all angles from the battle.   
Sho clicks open the front door, letting Ana back in - who jingles her way to her water and food bowls before she flops down on her bed in the corner of the living room. Sho, looking great in a simple outfit of red tshirt and skin tight black jeans, joins Ohno and Nino at the table, grabbing a banana and stealing a piece of Aiba’s toast on the way. 

Jun is the last one to join them. He grabs a banana and eats it, locking eyes with Sho, daring him to comment on the manner of his eating. Nino steers the conversation, beginning with Dragon Quest (as the other four listen in an extremely doting manner), then fielding questions from Jun about drama filming, his co-stars, the director. Jun updates them all on the status of the anniversary concert; the top isn’t completely open, which is great to keep their guests from getting rained on, but limits the ability for massive amounts of brightly colored fireworks.

Suddenly, Nino remembers that Sho still owes him lunch from earlier in the week. This leads to a back and forth that ends up with Sho offering to replace the lunch he owes him with an outing to the aquarium. Jun, knowing that this will undoubtedly end with a very cranky Nino and a feelings!hurt Sho, chooses this moment to speak up. 

“Guys, why… don’t we just take him upstairs?”

Ohno’s eyes light up as he pushes his chair back and starts running up the stairs. Sho is the next to follow, saying that he is going to get the slideshow set up. Nino moans, turning the glaring daggers that have replaced his eyes to Jun. 

“Slideshow pics? Why is my belated-birthday lunch turning into a slideshow festival, Junpon?” Nino grumbles a bunch, pouring what is left of his cereal into the garbage disposal and rinsing out his bowl before placing it in the sink. 

Aiba begins laughing, low in his chest and filling the room with the sound. 

“Nino, did you really think that all you were getting for your birthday were a couple of presents and some Chinese food?” 

On the inside, Nino probably did think that. Last year’s big trip, in his mind, used his and Jun’s birthdays as an excuse to do something they had wanted to do anyway. He had never really considered that the celebration had much of anything to do with his person, other than convenience. 

“Of course I did!” Nino sputters out, “I really appreciated being the center of attention.” 

“Well,” Aiba’s voice has gone sly. “How about if you’re not?” 

“What.” Nino’s response was quick, confused. At that, Jun reached into his pocket and pulled out a purple parcel and slid it across the table. Nino, baffled, tugged off the paper as his eyes grew wide. 

Inside the wrapping was a yellow ball gag with a tube running through the middle, metal rings on the side hooking it to long black ties. Nino’s eyes drifted back up and met Jun’s, shocked by the sharp intensity in his gaze. 

Unusually flustered, Nino flicked his eyes to Aiba’s, who had continued to laugh but had turned even more husky. He slid a package of his own across to Nino, never losing eye contact until Nino’s fingers were scrabbling at the wrapping paper. Upon opening, a pair of black leather handcuffs were revealed, and Nino’s thick fingers picked them up, dangling them in front of him. 

Swiftly, before Nino’s mind caught up, Aiba tucked his arms underneath Nino’s legs and behind his shoulders, lifting him from his chair and moving across the room. Jun picked up the gag and followed as the trio headed up the stairs and into the bedroom. Aiba deposited Nino into the festively decorated chair, as Ohno came back in with the rope from Sho’s study. 

“Seriously, you guys couldn’t be any more grown up with the decorations? What’s with all the paper streamers? It feels like Junpon’s awful overjacket from his solo in Are You Happy.” 

They all ignore him as they continue to bustle around with last minute preparations. Ohno is on Nino watch, standing close by and gently running his long, supple fingers across Nino’s shoulders, down his sides, catching him just right in the spot between his fourth and fifth ribs that surprises a laugh out of him. Ohno reaches the bottom of his t-shirt and pulls it off over his head, shushing him when Nino would have shouted out about the manhandling of his person by placing a single finger over Nino’s lips. Nino uses this opportunity to dart his tongue out, swirling around and then capturing Ohno’s finger and pulling it into his mouth. Ohno’s eyes go dark, and he deftly pulls Nino up and shoves his sweatpants and underwear down in the same moment, pushing him back into the chair with a hard kiss as he retrieves the rope from under the chair where it had fallen. His deft fingers, used to tying his craft to posts and attaching bait to his fishing lines, created intricate knots, leaving Nino plenty of room but unable to escape from the chair. 

Ohno has retrieved the handcuffs from where Nino dropped them at the doorway, and Aiba takes them from his fingers, walking over to Nino and running his hands down the smaller mans arms and, corralling them behind him, using his larger hands to pull them together by the wrists. He leaned down to whisper “let me” and pressed a short kiss to the nape of Nino’s neck as, with his other hand, he attached the handcuffs.

“Aiba-kun, these best not leave marks,” Nino grumbles. “I’m not the one that is going to explain to the manager how I got them.” 

Aiba, sure of the quality of his purchases, ignores him and goes over to Sho, whispering something in his ear. It is, Nino notes, endearing how brightly red the tips of Sho’s ears get, before he nods his head in the direction of the bedroom’s closet. Aiba leaves him to the projector and heads that way, rummaging deep into Sho’s dirty clothes hamper before emerging with yet another package, this one still in the yellow post envelope. Sho returned to fiddling with the projector in the corner of the room, grumbling about folders and privacy settings. 

Before Nino can see what goodie comes out of the package, Jun places his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of Nino, blocking his gaze and waiting patiently until Nino’s eyes track up past his suddenly bare abs and chest, lingering on the tendons in his neck and the priceless mole under his lower lip before locking eyes. 

“This is important, and I need you to listen,” Jun says. 

“Yes, yes, Junpon,” Nino says, eyes pulled back to the shape of Jun’s lips. Jun leans down and gives him what he wants, lingering on his lips, deepening into his mouth until Nino begins to squirm, unable to get his arms free to wrap around Jun and pull him closer, or to run a hand into his hair. Jun finally pulls away, giving Nino a moment to catch his breath. 

“We need to talk briefly about consent,” Jun murmurs, mouth still close to Nino’s own. Nino nods in agreement. “You have all my consent.” 

“Yes, yes,” Jun says, mimicking Nino’s previous flippancy. His gaze narrows, and Nino knows they’ve reached the part where Jun is no longer playing. The seriousness, the intensity, causes Nino’s cock to twitch and he groans, unable to do anything about it. 

“We are going to play a new game,” Jun states with terrifyingly sexy simplicity. “You will be a very important part of the game, but you need to know, you won’t be playing directly.” Jun’s voice gets huskier as he leans around Nino, finding his constrained hands and opening a palm. He places a round, dully spiky object in it, and as Jun closes his palm again, Nino can hear the jingle of the bell inside the ball.

“If you need us to stop, for any reason, drop the ball,” Jun says. “It is the only noise we will pay attention to from you. Any other noise you make will only serve to heighten the activity. Do you understand?” 

Nino, catching on to the nature of the game, smiles broadly like the cheshire cat. “Absolutely. Do you want me to start screaming now?” 

Jun chuckles, and pulls the gag back out of his pocket. “Soon,” he said. “Not quite yet.” He moves away from Nino, placing the gag on one bare thigh. “First, Aiba has something else for you.” 

“This is from Sho,” Aiba says. “He wouldn’t come shopping with us because he’s lame, but he did get it off of Amazon and luckily, it came by post yesterday.” Jun moves away, and Aiba fills Nino’s vision, holding a stretchy cock ring in one hand, a bottle of apple-flavored lube in the other. Aiba immediately notices that Nino is already half-erect, and his miracle grin flashes across his face. He generously applies the lube to his own hand, “volunteering” to get Nino prepared, and thoroughly covers the cock ring with lube before stretching it and starting to slide it down Nino’s dick. Nino gasps at the sensation of the cool liquid and the slow restriction of his cock, as Aiba settles the ring down at the base and adds extra lube, running his hand up and down Nino’s member to entice him into full erection. 

“Sho, look! It’s working!” Aiba calls across the room, and Nino is treated to the sight of Sho abandoning the projector to Ohno, eyes blown wide. Sho also seems to shed his own clothes with every step, standing next to Aiba, flinging an arm around his shoulders as they both stare down at the wonder of their creation. 

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” Nino calls out, but takes a moment to thrust his hips in their direction. 

At this point, Jun has apparently decided that their preparations were enough. He walks over and slides the gag into Nino’s mouth, tying the straps low behind his head. 

“You are ok? You can breathe?” at Nino’s nod, he leans down and whispers in his ear, just loud enough for Nino to hear. “Remember, silence is golden.” 

Jun straightens up as Nino starts articulating behind the gag. He is sure Nino said something along the lines of “you little shit,” but can’t be entirely sure. He turns to the other four members, smiling as he gives Sho the cue to begin the show. 

Sho hits a series of buttons on his laptop, and driving house music starts thumping through the bedroom. Aiba turns off the lights and Ohno draws the curtains, pushing the room into darkness even though it isn’t quite yet noon. On the wall opposite Nino, a collection of pictures begin to flicker by. These, Nino notes, are from their trip last year. There is not a single stitch of clothing in any of the pictures. They are on the beach; they are in jacuzzis. Sometimes, it’s a writhing patch of bodies, but some of them… Nino laughs a little behind the gag as he sees Sho in the kitchen nook at the Hawaii beach house, nude, reading the newspaper. His heart races as the pictures get more and more intense; we’ve gone from Sho’s “almost safe to share” to the deep secret recesses of his most private heart. Here is Nino and Sho, holding Jun between them, feeding him their cocks while the Hawaiian sun sets behind them. Here is Ohno, lounging on the sunchair, Aiba slowly pushing into him on his knees while Sho provides him with grapes to nibble on. Nino is not sure how Sho got the next one, unless he had set it on the timer; ten legs, ten arms. 

Nino’s cock has swollen, and the delightful new sensation brought on by the cockring makes him want to reach down and touch himself, but the restraints do their job too well. He starts making noises, hoping to catch someone’s attention, but the other four are riveted on the images on the screen. 

After a few minutes of exquisite visual torture, that, to Nino, feels like years, they reach the end of the slideshow. The glow of the projector leaves the room bathed in soft white light. The room is full of deep breaths as Ohno climbs onto the bed. He is definitely overdressed, as the only one wearing any clothing at all. 

He stands in the middle, and suddenly the laughing, joking, silly Ohno is immediately replaced by the walking sex creature that is Ohno On Stage. The music changes, something soulful and intense, and every move he makes is full of power. He starts with his shirt, pulling it sensuously over his head and then tossing it to Aiba. Several moments later, he finishes by pulling off his pants and, in a signature Ohno Satoshi move, jumps and lands flat on the bed, limbs outstretched, and beckons the other three to join him. 

Nino starts whining, reaching a desperate pitch behind the gag as Sho swallows, nibbles, and licks Satoshi’s cock. Satoshi’s long, beautiful fingers are wrapped around Jun’s thick member, squeezing as he pulls up and down along the shaft. The whines reach wails as Aiba’s hands, slicked with lube, run up and down the cleft of Sho’s ass as he moans appreciatively from around Ohno’s dick. 

Aiba’s middle finger, so slick, slowly eases into Sho as he squirts more lube down to ease its passage. Aiba hands the bottle off to Jun, who pulls Ohno’s hand away from his cock long enough to drizzle the liquid over it. He repositions, aligning the head of his dick with Ohno’s soft lips, growling as Ohno’s tongue savors the apple flavor. Jun leans down and helps Sho worship Ohno’s flesh, gently thrusting so that Ohno’s tongue and mouth could envelop him fully. 

Aiba pushes in a second finger, scissoring deep inside Sho, lightly running his other hand up and down Sho’s back to soothe the moans coming out of his mouth as he thrust his fingers in, spreading, loosening. He sought out Nino’s eyes as he added a third finger, smiling brightly as Nino began actively fighting against his bonds, writhing, sputtering, drooling around the gag in his mouth. 

After several minutes, Sho’s body is finally ready to accept Aiba’s cock. Aiba makes sure he keeps his eyes connected with Nino’s as he lines up and sinks into Sho, but is unable to stop the loud moan he utters as he feels Sho’s body clinch around him, Sho’s rumble as he pushes deeper. He feels Jun’s eyes, as well, as he has sat back and is now watching him drive in and out of Sho, and cannot help but increase his pace. Jun, never one to be left out, reaches back for the lube. 

With gentle pushes and sighs, Jun turns Ohno around, tucking him back under Sho’s body and providing Ohno with a perfect view of the exquisite pleasure Aiba is enacting upon Sho’s body. Ohno reaches up and pulls Sho’s cock into his mouth, surrounding him with a perfect mixture of heat and suction. Aiba caresses Sho’s hips as he pulls him back into his body, Sho’s spine arching with the sensations; Aiba inside him, his flesh balls deep into Ohno’s mouth and throat. 

Jun, not to be left out, is quick to start on Ohno’s ass, using the lube to ease in his first finger, pushing quickly with copious amounts of lubrication to speed up the process. He is almost frantic, making mewling noises of desperation in his throat, as he stares at Nino - still tied up, still struggling, cock erect and straining against a bond of its own. Jun catches himself near drooling and pistons his two fingers in and out of Ohno more quickly, adding more lube and a final third finger before slicking himself up and slowly, oh so slowly, using every ounce of his own willpower, fully enwrapping his cock with Ohno’s body. Ohno bucks up, wrapping his legs around Jun and pulling him in closer, deeper, causing Jun to grind inside him. The pleasure is exquisite torture, and Jun is not ashamed to know he does not last long, gripping Ohno’s legs and pumping deep. 

Sho watches Jun go over the edge and it sets off a chain reaction; he loses control quickly, and the clinching of his inner muscles take Aiba over the edge. Finally, the application of three sets of lips, mouths, and tongue take Ohno screaming. 

The four men sit up and stare at Nino. Nino, wrung out. Nino, his own cum shot up over his abdomen and chest. Nino, drool streaming from both sides of his mouth around the gag; arms, abdomen, and legs red where he had strained against the rope. 

Aiba is first out of the bed, making it to the restroom and back with plenty of speed. He tosses an extra cloth to the men on the bed, using a warm washcloth to wipe down Nino’s body of his own body’s essences, starting with the drool and ending in his lap. Gingerly, he reaches down and removes the cockring, untying the ropes and rubbing down Nino’s limbs. Finally, he reaches behind Nino’s head and unties the gag, tenderly taking it out of his mouth after Nino releases his teeth. The ball has obvious teeth marks on it, and Aiba cannot help but smile at the effort Nino had had to hold back.

All four men surround Nino, having performed their own clean up. They kiss and massage his limbs, his marks, his lips. Jun begins to worry about the fact that, even though the gag is gone, Nino has not said even a single word. He places a finger under Nino’s chin, gently pulling it up so he can see his eyes. There are tears at the corners, and Ohno leans over and kisses them away.

“Are you ok?” Jun asks, voice quiet but seemingly loud in the silence of the room. 

“Yeah, happy fucking birthday to me. Leave Junpon’s birthday planning to me, I have the perfect idea.” 

The day continues, light-hearted, happy - a true celebration of the life of one man, so very important and integral to the well-being of the entire family. Beneath it all, though, the weight of the summer rises into the sky like thunderclouds on the horizon. They all know what is coming next, but the distant flashes are as-yet beautiful, not quite catastrophic.


	8. Castles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback chapter, sorry kids. Literally; young Aiba & Nino; a bit of fluff to cool yourself down after Nino's birthday party. Completely PG, maybe stretchable to PG-13 if you have some really radical imaginating going on. Enjoy :)

“See you later!” Nino waves behind him, to the boys he is leaving behind. It’s early evening, and a late afternoon shower left the streets a little muggy, a little warm. He hates it; he doesn’t want to bother with an umbrella, but on days like this you can never be quite sure if the clouds are going to drop a few more sprinkles. He pulls his hat lower on his forehead and starts heading to the station, feet scraping the pavement. He is tired, and he is done. 

“Hey, hey! Wait for me!” a blonde-ish mess bursts out of the doors 50 feet behind him, all long limbs and huge grin, earring flashing and feet pounding. The other boy catches up to him quickly, slowing his pace to match the shorter boy’s strides. Aiba casually slings his arm around Nino’s shoulders, carrying his basketball under his other arm. 

“The choreography is so fun, dancing behind Okada-san! Have you learned your backflip yet? I don’t think that Sakurai-san is going to be able to get it in time; he doesn’t seem to quite know how to bend his knees,” the babble starts, and Nino isn’t really in the mood. He shifts a bit to the side, letting Aiba’s arm fall between them, letting the chill of his body language cut across the distance. Aiba is completely unperturbed, although he does let the chatter fall off and begins bouncing the basketball. Even the rhythmic thunk of the ball hitting the pavement makes Nino twinge. 

“Hey, do you have a headache?” Aiba’s entire demeanor suddenly changes. He catches the basketball and swings his bag around, rustling around inside until pulling out some over-the-counter pain meds. “They’re for my muscles; I’ve been getting kinda sore lately. But if your head hurts…” Aiba bonks the bottle against his hand, counting out a couple of pills, grabbing Nino’s hand, and pressing them into his palm. 

Nino, thankful for the slight distraction, detours the pair of them into a local 7/11 and uses his last 200 yen to buy a sports drink and cracks it open before he leaves the store, exiting and leaning back against the facade to toss back the pills and follow with a quick swig from the bottle. He closes his eyes, tucking the bottle under his arm and using both hands to massage his temple. 

Suddenly his hands are removed and replaced by warm fingers, massaging his temples and then working their way down to his neck and shoulders. He moans from pleasure without meaning to and opens his eyes; he knows these hands from post-dance practice massages, and although they are amateur, the warmth and pressure work miracles on his headache.   
After a minute or two, he takes a few steps away before turning around and muttering a quick thanks, making sure not to meet Aiba’s eyes. He hates it when people see or notice that he is vulnerable, but he knows that the older boy did not need to help him. Aiba shrugs, underlining to Nino that it’s just something he does, not anything special about Nino; Nino does not notice that Aiba’s eyes continue to watch him as they walk - something he doesn’t do with everyone else. They continue their walk to the station, but their trip to the convenience store has caused them to miss their train; the next one through doesn’t come for another 20 minutes or so. Aiba heads over to the only unoccupied bench nearby, and Nino’s muscles are too worn out to consider anything but following and taking the seat next to him. 

Aiba chitchats quietly, talking about his parents’ newest puppy and his little brother’s middle school antics. Nino chuckles, not choosing to remind him that Nino himself is just out of middle school as well. As they talk, even more than the medicine or the massage, Nino feels the stress of the day move out of his body and his heart become lighter. But there’s still a darkness, and the other boy’s considerable kindness to date causes Nino to just go ahead and talk about it. 

“I’m not sure that this is what I want to do,” he interjects into Aiba’s monologue about basketball. Aiba quiets, but does not stiffen or react with shock, so Nino gathers up the courage to continue. “It’s not bad, you know? Filming and everything is really cool, but… I don’t think I’m suited to be in front of the camera, or on stage. I mean, I can’t even do a backflip!” 

Aiba’s head tilts and the movement causes Nino’s eyes to flutter over, accidentally making eye contact - which Aiba refuses to relinquish. “Is that how you really feel?” 

“I don’t know,” Nino admits. “There’s just so much going on, and so rapidly. I told Johnny-san today, that I want to quit by the end of the year. I’m just going to push through and finish high school, maybe go to California and study directing.” 

Aiba looks away and turns towards the ground, bouncing the basketball once, twice. The noise is loud in the buzzing silence of Nino’s head. Why did Aiba look away? 

“Is it so bad?” Aiba’s voice is so sudden, Nino jumps a little. “It’s just play in the end, right? I thought it was playing basketball with SMAP, but even though that’s not what we ended up doing, I still don’t want to quit, right?” Aiba punctuates his question with a bounce of the ball. 

“Well, I mean,” Nino flounders a little, not quite sure what to say. “It’s not a bad way, and I mean, I can really use the money. But I don’t know. My dad doesn’t really approve, and things are really rough at home now because of it. And my sister’s friends are all ‘kyaa~ you’re in Johnny’s, can you introduce me to Nagase-san’ and it’s embarrassing.” 

“What if I taught you how to backflip?” Aiba’s offer is nonchalant, but Nino can tell it really means something to him. “I mean, if that’s the thing that’s really making you think twice?” 

Nino thinks about it, nibbling on his lip and glaring daggers at the tracks. 

“I can come over today. Maybe I’ll grab us dinner, since I’m older and all,” Aiba laughs as he says it, and Nino’s heart catches. He can’t find it in him to say no, and he follows Aiba onto the subway when it arrives. Aiba calls his family briefly to let them know that he will be home late that evening and not to bother with waiting dinner. Their chatter on the train is inconsequential, until Aiba follows Nino off the car when they get to his stop. This is different; Nino had never invited anybody over to his place before. 

He leads Aiba up the stairs to his apartment, third from the end, right before the burnt out overhead light. He puts in his key and turns the lock, flipping on the light switch and pushing open the door - taking a moment to thank all that is holy that he had stopped and thrown his clothes into a hamper before he had left for the company that morning. He kicks off his shoes and moves out of the way before setting his bag down, letting Aiba come in, into his territory. Not even his mother had visited, and Nino’s heart lurches when he realizes that Aiba is his first guest. 

Aiba settles in right at home, opening the (empty) cabinet drawers until he finds Nino’s stash of take out places and uses his cell to call the first one. He hands the phone to Nino in order to give the pizza place his address, and then finishes the call and tucks the phone back in his bag.

“So, nice place,” Aiba says, and smiles a bit as Nino scoffs. 

“You mean, thanks for inviting you to my castle,” Nino adds a little laugh to his voice, not drawing attention to the peeling wallpaper or dim lighting in the tiny little apartment. Aiba turns, noticing everything in one glance - how could you not? Tiny black and white TV with original famicom in a place of pride, centered along the wall. A folded futon. A single chair resting next to a folding tray. A small window reflecting the neon light flashing outside. 

Aiba laughs out loud, boisterously, happily. “Well, we have just enough room for that backflip,” he says, immediately moving to shift the futon further into the corner and giving them just enough room that, if Nino laid down, he wouldn’t touch the walls on both sides. Aiba slides the TV and Famicom over, too, just to make sure there are no accidents. The entire time, Nino makes repeated comments not to break his huge TV and to be careful with his state of the art gaming system. 

As Aiba finishes, his attention returns to Nino - this time, specifically, his attire. Nino is dressed in a long pullover with a hood, cuffs reaching to his fingertips, and a pair of faded jeans that cling to his assets but are altogether too stiff to provide good mobility. 

“There is no way you’re going to be able to do a backflip,” he states, simply pointing towards the closet in the corner of the room. He pretends not to notice as Nino blocks Aiba’s view into the closet, the scant amount of hangers and the barely-bulging hamper evidence that there isn’t much there for Nino to change into. He ends up pulling out a pair of used-to-be-gray sweats. 

“You’re going to have to deal with the shirt,” Nino says. “I don’t have any others clean.” He then stomps out of the apartment and down the hall to the communal bathroom at the end. While he is gone, Aiba confirms his suspicions and, when Nino returns after changing, has come to the proper conclusion. 

“You can’t move in that shirt,” he says, simply. “Just get rid of it.” Aiba injects enough authority in his voice that Nino ends up shrugging and just pulling it off. Aiba sees too much; too much rib. Lanky muscles visible in the I’m-not-eating-enough sense. And Aiba makes a decision. 

“Okay, first things first.” Aiba demonstrates the proper stretching for the backflip, his heart racing as he sees the surety in Nino’s movements. He then guides Nino through the movements, catching him as he falls back, helping his hands find the ground. He helps Nino pull his feet up and over, over and over so that his muscles get used to the movement. 

About thirty minutes later, Nino is successfully working his way through a slow layover. They will need more space for a full back handspring, but Aiba feels confident that, with this muscle memory, it will be easy enough for them to easily get past that in the coming days. 

Eventually, there is a knock on the door and Aiba jumps up, opening the door and paying for the pizza like he owns the place. He brings the pizza box back to the floor, and he and Nino sit cross-legged with the box between them, snatching pieces (cheese and pineapple) from the box until, one by one, the entire pizza is gone. 

Nino invites Aiba to stay and watch a little TV while he goes ahead and showers. Real quick, Nino squirrels back into the tiny closet and bops down the hallway. Aiba cleans up the mess from the pizza and stretches out his legs, leaning his back against the futon and flipping his way through the channels on the TV. He eventually lands on a rerun of Midnight Horror School and settles in to watch the characters’ silly antics. 

Finally, Nino returns, smelling clean and fresh, his wet hair plastered to his head. He settles in languidly next to Aiba, laughing when he notices how silly the show is. Aiba’s struck by that laugh; he wants to hear that laugh forever. He doesn’t want that laugh to ever go away - not by the lack of food in the fridge, not by the single blanket for a winter’s night, not for anything. He stares at the other boy’s profile in the flickering TV light, and wonders if it’ll be ok. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

Aiba’s not aware he’s going to say it out loud until he does, and Nino’s attention is diverted away from the TV and to Aiba instead. The intensity of the gaze itself is frightening, but Aiba will not look away. He will not be afraid, not of this. 

He leans forward and presses his lips against Nino’s, startled when Nino pulls away. Nino’s eyes stare into his, questioning, and Aiba smiles in affirmation. Nino is the one that leans forward this time, wrapping his arms around Aiba’s neck and smiling against his lips before kissing him thoroughly, until neither one of them remember what it is like to breathe. 

They stay that way for a while, until the beginning tones of the next television program jar them away from each other. There is a sweet expression on Nino’s face; one that Aiba has never seen before. 

“Idiot,” he says, and snuggles into Aiba’s shoulder, draping his arm around him, staying close. 

The night spent leaning against the futon, instead of laying on it, does nothing to improve either boy’s backflip skills the next day. But that night is the beginning of everything, and every time Aiba sees Nino do a backflip he is filled with pride, that so much started from something so small.


End file.
